The writer sits at her desk, staring at the screen. It isn't supposed to be this way. 'Any minute now,' she thinks to herself ' he will walk through that door, smiling and laughing.' She knows the truth but pushes it out of her mind. She takes a sip of her coffee, cold, bitter. She never real had a taste for it, but it was the same can he had left unused for so long.  She smirks, remembering the rare times that he would make coffee before she was off to school. He was writing those mornings. She could tell. The screen was lit up with words like others would light Christmas trees.
                Even now those words meant more than Christmas to her.
Even now reality hasn't hit her. She can feel it. It's Wednesday. He'll be home at 6:30, here to pick up one of her siblings. She could go, if she really wanted to. Now she wishes she did. They'll take the dog for a walk while she sits, staring at the screen and willing her words to flow like his. She reminds herself that his words are gone, and they won't come back. They won't flow from her pen quite as smoothly as they had his, but she will try. Try to piece together the words that do not fit right, irregular, jagged.
Her sister comes to sit beside her, resting her head on her shoulder. The touch is warm, almost unwanted, but now is not the time for rejection. She strokes her sister's mess of curls, the bump in her nose just like his. But he is gone, she reminds herself, looking back at the screen. He is gone and there is no way to bring him back. She stares at her sister. Her sister stares back. Within the seconds of eye contact is a lifetime of understanding. She sighs, pulling back her hair, putting her fingers to the keys. Nobius Black, deceased. In his place now, his two finest prodigies-  Alyss and Drena Black.