I stared at the empty space where he used to sleep, the indent of his pillow still bearing the shape of his head. The faint scent of his cologne clung to the fabric, a cruel taunt. My gaze drifted to the photo album on the bedside table, its pages fluttering like fallen leaves in a gust of sorrow. The faces of my friends, our laughter, our adventures… now meaningless without him by my side.

A sob ripped through my chest, and I buried my face in the comforter, the soft fabric like a cruel joke. I thought of all the nights we spent wrapped in its warmth, our bodies tangled, our hearts beating as one. Those moments now nothing but a hazy memory, as distant as the stars beyond our city's polluted sky.

As I wailed, the city outside seemed to writhe in sync with my anguish. The neon lights of the strip clubs and tattoo parlors opposite our apartment pulsed with an otherworldly rhythm, like the heartbeat of a monster feasting on my pain. I'm not the only one who's noticed the change in me. Neighbors whisper about the "crazy girl" who screams every night, as if my sorrow was a spectacle meant for their amusement.

A knock on the door cut through my despair. I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to face the world. The voice on the other side, laced with a mixture of concern and morbid curiosity, sent a shiver down my spine. It was Rachel, our next-door neighbor and my friend from the "before" era.

"Hey, sweetie, I brought over some coffee and –"

The words died on her lips as she took in the mess before her. The shattered mirror, the torn pages of my diary, the splintered remains of my guitar. My once-cozy apartment now resembled a war zone. Rachel's eyes widened as if she'd stumbled into a crime scene.

"God, what happened?" she whispered, taking a cautious step back.

I buried my face in the comforter again, unable to muster the energy to respond. Rachel hesitated for a moment before gingerly placing the coffee on the bedside table and backing away like a ghost. "I'll, uh, come by tomorrow, if you're… okay?"

As the door closed behind her, I let out a mirthless laugh. Tomorrow? Like the world wouldn't shatter me to pieces before then. Like tomorrow would bring answers, or solace, or – most importantly – my lost love back to me. The darkness closing in around me seemed to chuckle in agreement, its cold breath whispering cruel truths in my ear.

I'll have to get used to this new normal – a world where my boyfriend, my everything, had been stolen by… them. Vampires. The eternally fashionable undead, who'd swooped in and snatched him away, leaving me with nothing but the shattered remains of my heart. Ah, the romance of heartbreak – when you're left to pick up the pieces of a love that's been drained of life. At least I still have my sarcasm to hold onto.

For now.

I reached for the coffee, the bitter taste and acrid scent a welcome distraction from the emptiness gnawing at my insides. As I sipped the scalding liquid, a morbid thought struck me: I guess I won't have to worry about gaining weight now.

I lay there, the comforter a soggy, sweat-drenched shroud around me, as I relived the memories that now seemed tainted with the bitter taste of heartbreak. My mind wandered back to the last time we'd shared a laugh, the way his eyes sparkled when I said something stupid, and the way my heart had swelled with love. But it was all just a cruel joke now. He was gone, taken by those bloodthirsty fiends in the night. I couldn't even muster the energy to be angry. Not when the grief felt like a live wire, constantly sparking and arcing through my veins.

My thoughts were interrupted by a faint humming noise, like the quiet buzzing of a failing fluorescent light. I opened one eye to find my phone had fallen off the nightstand, and the screen was flickering with a particularly annoying meme my ex used to send me when I was being dramatic. "When you're too lazy to move, but also too sad to care" it said, with a picture of a sloth in a raincloud. I couldn't help but laugh, the sound shattering the fragile calm that had settled over me. I quickly turned it off, my eyes stinging with the effort.

I tossed the phone aside and threw off the comforter, revealing the scattered chaos of my bedroom. Clothes were strewn across the floor, my dresser drawers were open, and there was a faint trail of glitter leading from the bathroom to my bed. I stared at it, baffled, until I remembered using it as a makeshift highlighter the night before. The memory was bittersweet, and I let out a defeated sigh.

As I stood there, trying to gather my thoughts, I felt a strange tingling sensation in my fingers. It started as a gentle buzzing and quickly escalated into a searing pain. I looked down to see my nails were glowing with a faint, otherworldly light. Panic set in as I frantically tried to scrub at them with a washcloth, but it only seemed to make things worse. The light grew brighter, and I felt my magic spiking out of control. I was supposed to be a master of emotional manipulation, not a freak show.

In my desperation, I tried to channel the pain, to turn it into something beautiful, something fierce. But it came out twisted and wrong. My bed began to fill with tiny, glowing shards of glass, each one a miniature replica of the shattered heart I felt inside me. They swirled around me like a tornado, threatening to consume everything in their path. I stood frozen, unsure of what to do, as my bedroom transformed into a miniature glassworks.

It was then that I heard the absurdly mundane sound of my landlady's voice, echoing through the intercom in the front door. "Good morning, lovebirds! Just wanted to remind you about the rent being overdue." The world outside seemed completely oblivious to my impending doom, my heartbreak, or the fact that my furniture was now a hazardously explosive minefield of broken glass. The universe, it seemed, was a heartless, uncaring beast that didn't care about the petty worries of humans. I let out a defeated snarl, wondering if I was the only one who felt this way.

As the glass continued to swirl around me, I made a silent vow to myself: I would rebuild, I would recover, and I would find a way to make those vampires pay for what they'd done. But for now, I just stood there, surrounded by the remnants of my shattered heart, and the faint, mocking glow of my own broken magic.

I forced a weak smile onto my face as I slowly made my way to the intercom, my heart sinking deeper into the pit of despair with each step. The faint hum grew louder, and a voice, eerily calm, spoke through the speaker. "A visitor has arrived, Miss…" The pause that followed was like a cruel whisper in my ear, reminding me of the person I'd yet to see. "… Blackwood."

My mind screamed, "Why them?" Why, of all people, would they show up now? I'd barely managed to keep my sanity intact in the wake of my ex's departure, and the thought of seeing that smug, self-satisfied smile again was enough to make me want to crawl under my bed and stay there forever. But, with a deep breath, I steeled myself for the inevitable. I had to face the music, even if it meant risking a public breakdown in front of… whoever it was.

I opened the door to find myself face to face with a tall, gaunt figure dressed in all black, his jet-black hair slicked back, revealing an uncanny resemblance to the love of my life. The same piercing blue eyes sparkled with amusement, as if he knew the depths of my despair and was here to gloat. I tried to keep my composure, but my eyes betrayed me, widening in horror as the thought hit me: they were here to collect the payment. My heart, still bruised from the recent breakup, was on the verge of shattering all over again.

"Oh, hello there," he said, his low, smooth voice dripping with sarcasm. "Mind if I come in?" I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should invite him in, but he simply pushed past me, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for something – or someone.

I led him to the living room, attempting to play it cool, but my mind was racing with questions. What did he want? Was he here to collect the last shred of my sanity? The darkness in the room seemed to grow thicker, like a living entity, as he settled into the couch, making himself at home.

"So, I'm sorry to intrude at such a… delicate time," he said, his voice a perfect balance of condescension and concern. I nodded, still trying to wrap my head around the situation. He seemed to be enjoying this, reveling in my misery like a cruel, supernatural friend.

As I fidgeted with my sleeve, wondering how to extricate myself from this nightmare, I noticed the faint scent of cologne wafting from him. My ex's cologne. The familiar scent was like a punch to the gut, making it hard to breathe.

"Please, do pardon me if I seem a bit… overwhelmed," I managed to stammer. He leaned forward, his eyes glinting with excitement. "I'm not here to collect, Miss Blackwood. I'm here to tell you something that might… interest you."

My heart sank even further, but I tried to keep my interest piqued, if only to see how far he'd go with his game of psychological torture. But as he leaned in closer, his voice dropped to a whisper, sending shivers down my spine. "You're not the only one who's lost someone dear. It seems your… ex has met a certain… condition."

The words hung in the air like a challenge, leaving me to wonder what 'condition' he was referring to. Was it possible that my ex, the one who'd broken my heart into a million pieces, had found himself in a similar predicament? A part of me was intrigued, another part was scared out of its wits. But one thing was certain – I was trapped in this dark, twisted web of heartbreak and vampires, with no clear way out.

"You see, Miss Blackwood, we have a… system, of sorts," he continued, his eyes sparkling with a malevolent light. "When someone meets a certain… condition, we collect them, and it becomes a sort of… trade. You see, the heartbreak you feel, the anguish, the despair – it's all so… delicious." He leaned back, a self-satisfied smile spreading across his face. "And I think you'll find that it's not just your ex who's… interesting."

He leaned forward again, his voice dropping to a whisper, sending shivers down my spine. "We have a new acquisition, one that I think you'll be… intrigued by." A cold dread washed over me as I realized I was in for a wild ride, one that would take me further down the rabbit hole of heartbreak and darkness.

I forced a laugh, trying to mask my fear. "Well, isn't this just a lovely conversation. Tell me more about this… acquisition." He leaned in closer, his eyes glinting with excitement, and I knew that I was in for a ride that would leave me screaming, laughing, and begging for mercy – all at the same time.

As I lay back onto the bed, the plush comforter an unwelcome solace, I couldn't shake the feeling that the world outside my window was mocking me with its vibrant beauty – the sun was rising, painting the sky with hues of bruised flesh and sorrowful acceptance. The intercom's ominous voice lingered in my mind like a bad omen, beckoning me downstairs to face whatever lay beyond.

I slowly rose to my feet, the chill of the morning air greeting me like a slap in the face as I shuffled towards the door. My bare feet carried me through the silent halls, the only sound the soft click of the floorboards beneath my feet. The stairwell loomed before me, its imposing presence a metaphor for the abyss that had opened up beneath my heart.

As I descended, a faint hum of whispers grew louder, until it became a cacophony of disembodied voices, all speaking in hushed tones about my misfortune. I recognized the voices – the whispers of my own mind, the echoes of a thousand broken dreams and shattered hopes. They were the ghosts of relationships past, come to offer their condolences.

I pushed open the door, and a warm, golden light spilled in, bathing me in an eerie glow. The room was filled with an assemblage of the damned – my ex-boyfriend, surrounded by a coven of vampires, their eyes gleaming with an unholy hunger. My mind reeled as I took in the sight, the pieces clicking into place with a gruesome inevitability.

"It's not just a breakup, is it?" I whispered, the words torn from my lips like a scream.

My ex-boyfriend's eyes met mine, and for an instant, I saw the spark of his former love for me. Then, it was extinguished, replaced by a sinister grin that made my skin crawl. "It's a merger, darling," he said, his voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. "I've joined the ranks of the undying, and I couldn't do it without you."

The vampires closed in, their faces a blur of pale skin and razor-sharp fangs. I stumbled backward, my mind reeling from the implications. My ex-boyfriend, the love of my life, had traded me in for a taste of immortality. The thought was both devastating and darkly funny, a cruel joke played on my fragile heart.

"You see, my dear," one of the vampires chimed in, his voice a low, raspy purr, "we've been watching you, studying your emotional responses. We've discovered that your heartbreak is the key to unlocking a new level of magical power – one that could grant us dominion over the mortal world."

I felt a cold dread creeping up my spine as I realized the true horror of my situation. My heartbreak, the very thing that had been destroying me, was not just a product of my own sorrow – it was a commodity, a resource to be exploited by these creatures of the night.

"You're going to make us rich," the lead vampire crooned, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic light. "And I'm going to make you mine."

As the vampires closed in, their fangs bared and ready, I knew I had a choice to make. I could surrender to their dark allure, allowing them to harness my heartbreak for their gain, or I could fight back, use my emotions as a shield to protect myself from their twisted desires.

I took a deep breath, the air catching in my lungs like a challenge. I would not be broken. I would not be tamed.

And with that, I unleashed a scream of fury, a roar of defiance that shook the very foundations of the room. The vampires recoiled, their eyes widening in surprise as I summoned a dark, swirling power that threatened to consume them all.

But as I stood there, bathed in the golden light of the room, I realized that I had not summoned the power alone. Something else was stirring within me, a dark, ancient force that had been awakened by my heartbreak.

And it was hungry.

I stepped off the creaky elevator and onto the musty ground floor, the air thick with the scent of decay and forgotten memories. The dimly lit reception area was a tomb, with cobweb-covered portraits gazing down upon me like the vengeful spirits of my past. My gaze drifted to the director's assistant, a pinched-faced woman with skin as pale as the moon, who stood motionless behind the reception desk. Her eyes seemed to be sucking the life out of me, just as they had sucked the life out of my relationship.

"Miss Blackwood," she said, her voice as flat as the grave, "Director Valois awaits you in his office. And your… guest, is still waiting."

A spark of rage ignited within me, fueled by the knowledge that he was still down here, basking in the Director's approval, no doubt. I forced a smile, or what I hoped was a smile, onto my face. "Thank you, dear. I'd love to see them both."

As I walked down the hallway, the walls seemed to whisper dark secrets in my ear – secrets of heartbreak, of shattered dreams, of the crushing weight of being a pawn in someone else's game. My footsteps echoed through the empty corridors, a morbid serenade to the dying embers of my heart.

Director Valois's office was a shrine to excess, a temple dedicated to the worship of power and magic. I felt like an ant scurrying across the polished marble floor, insignificant and small. The Director himself sat behind his desk, a man of imposing stature and a face that seemed chiseled from the very stone of the mansion. Behind him, a portrait of his wife, now deceased, watched me with cold, dead eyes, a reminder that even love can turn to dust in the face of ambition.

"Ah, Miss Blackwood, thank you for coming," he said, his voice dripping with sincerity, just like his smile. "I'm afraid we have a… situation on our hands. A situation involving your… guest and his… associates."

My heart sank, as it always seemed to do whenever I heard the words "situation" and "associates" in the same sentence. "What kind of associates?"

Director Valois leaned forward, his eyes glinting with an air of excitement. "The Order of the Red Hand. A group of… enthusiasts who believe that the key to ultimate power lies in the manipulation of emotions."

I felt a shiver run down my spine as I realized the implications. "And what's their interest in my ex?"

The Director's smile grew, his lips curling up like a ghoul's in a crypt. "Ah, your ex, dear Miss Blackwood, is a vampire. And vampires, as you know, are notorious for their… passion for emotional connection."

I felt a cold dread creeping up my spine, like a dark, grasping hand. "You mean, they're in love with him?"

Director Valois's chuckle sent a chill down my spine. "Oh, no, dear. I think you misunderstand. Vampires don't love; they consume. And what they consume is the very fabric of your emotions."

A dark, mirthless laugh bubbled up within me, a twisted response to the absurdity of it all. "Well, that's just peachy. Because I didn't think things could get any more complicated."

As I stood there, frozen in a mixture of horror and dark humor, a figure emerged from the shadows, a tall, brooding man with skin as white as alabaster and eyes that burned with an inner fire. He was the embodiment of my ex's dark, twisted desires, and I knew in that moment that I was staring into the abyss, staring at the very depths of my own shattered heart.

"Well, well, well," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "What do we have here? The ultimate emotional vampire. Who's thirsty for what?"

His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I felt like I was drowning in their depths, drowning in the black, bottomless pit of his soul. "I'm thirsty for you, Miss Blackwood," he whispered, his voice like a sigh from the grave. "I'm thirsty for your heart, your soul, your very essence."

And in that moment, I knew that I was in grave danger, not just from the Order of the Red Hand, but from the darkest, most twisted corners of my own heart, where my ex's darkness had taken root, where the very fabric of my emotions was being torn apart, thread by thread, by the vampire who had stolen my heart, and my boyfriend, too.

As I stepped into the director's office, a mix of dread and resignation swirled within me like a toxic storm. It was a feeling I'd grown all too familiar with over the past few days, and my gut told me this meeting wouldn't be an exception. Dr. Lee, the director, smiled warmly as I approached, but I saw something in her eyes that made my stomach plummet.

I slid into the stiff chair, trying to appear more composed than I felt. "Miss Blackwood, I'm afraid I have some… unpleasant news," she said, her voice laced with a saccharine sweetness that made my skin crawl. I braced myself for the worst.

It started with a faint tremble in her hands, a faint tremble that spread through her entire body like a slow-moving cancer. Then, the words spilled out like a dark confession: "Your… boyfriend… Alexander… He wasn't who he claimed to be."

My mind went white at the edges, a cold dread creeping up my spine as if it was being drawn in by an unseen force. "What are you talking about?" I stammered, trying to maintain some semblance of reason.

Dr. Lee's eyes seemed to hold a world of pain within their depths, a pain that I was desperate to escape. "He… he's a vampire, Miss Blackwood. And he's not alone. He's been… compromised."

Compromised? What did she mean? The room started spinning around me, images from our time together colliding with the harsh reality like acid on skin. I stumbled out of my chair, trying to cling to something – anything – as my world crumbled.

"You're telling me that Alexander, the man I thought I loved, is a monster? And not just any monster, but one who's been… compromised… by… who?" My voice cracked under the weight of her words, a scream building in my chest.

Dr. Lee's face fell, her expression twisted in what looked like a mix of regret and empathy. "By his makers, Miss Blackwood. His 'family' has been using him for their own purposes. You see, they've been searching for someone with a… specific… set of skills, and they've been using Alexander to find you."

The air seemed to thicken around me, a malevolent entity that threatened to swallow me whole. Skills? What skills? I felt my mind reeling from the implications. Skills that would make me a pawn in their twisted game. Skills that Alexander had exploited for his own gain.

The world around me imploded. The laughter that still lingered from our memories was reduced to a mocking echo. I thought back to all those nights we shared, the whispers, the promises, the love… love, which had been nothing more than a calculated ruse all along. The tears I'd cried for him? Just another tool in their arsenal.

My anger and heartbreak merged into a single, burning entity that incinerated any shred of rational thought. I turned to Dr. Lee, my voice a venomous hissing: "Where is he? Tell me where he is, and I'll make sure they all pay for what they've done."

Dr. Lee's face turned pale, her hands raised as if to placate a wild animal. "Miss Blackwood, please –"

But I was beyond reason. The abyss that had been slowly opening within me finally swallowed me whole, and I slipped into its dark depths, my screams echoing through the desolate halls of Ravenswood Asylum.

As I stood amidst the crumbling walls of Ravenswood Asylum, Dr. Lee's words still lingered in my mind like a curse: our funding was being severed, leaving Elysium in shambles. I thought my heart had hit rock bottom, but it turned out I was just getting started. The darkness closing in around me was nothing compared to the crushing weight of my own heartache. It was a weight I refused to bear alone. In a moment of defiance, a spark within me ignited like a match to dry leaves.

"Dr. Lee," I said, my voice low and deadly, "tell me, how much of our research did you actually believe in? Or was Elysium just a means to an end – a way to keep you employed with a pretty face and a pretty story?"

Dr. Lee's eyes darted to his assistant, who quickly excused himself from the room. "Ah, Miss Blackwood, I assure you—"

"Don't," I said, taking a step closer, my anger simmering just below the surface. "Don't make excuses for what you've done or what you've taken from us. I want to know the truth. What have you lost in all this? What are you afraid of?"

Dr. Lee's mask slipped, and for a moment, I saw a glimmer of something almost like…fear. But it was quickly replaced by a calculating smile. "You'll never leave this place, Miss Blackwood. Not with what you have – what you're capable of unleashing. I took a chance on you, and you repaid me with tears and tantrums. I'll not be swayed by your theatrics."

The words stung, but I knew I couldn't let them break me. In fact, they became the catalyst for my own transformation. Like a seedling bursting through concrete, my emotions began to take root. The pain, the heartache – all the raw emotions that had been building inside me – coalesced into a power I couldn't contain.

"Elysium may be your little pet project," I spat, my voice dripping with venom, "but I'm the one who made it work. You used me to get to it, but you never understood what I've been trying to prove – what I've been trying to fix."

I felt the air around me begin to shimmer, like the surface of a pond hit by a stone. The shadows deepened, twisting and contorting into impossible shapes. And in the midst of the chaos, I found my own power, a fire that had been burning within me all along. It was a power tied to emotion, fueled by heartbreak, and it was about to consume me whole.

"A little too late for regrets, don't you think, Dr. Lee?" I said, my voice rising to a crescendo of madness. The words hung in the air like a curse, as I took a step forward – and then another. The darkness around me grew thicker, more palpable, and with it, my resolve.

"You see, I may not have been the best researcher, but I was always the best liar. And you, dear doctor, have just learned the cost of underestimating a broken heart."

With that, I vanished into the shadows, leaving Dr. Lee staring at an empty space where his most promising project – and his greatest asset – once stood. The darkness closed in around him, heavy with the weight of my absence. And I…I was finally free to unleash the full fury of my heartbreak upon the world.

As I stepped into the night, the wind whipped my hair into a frenzy, and the stars above seemed to mock me with their silence. But I laughed, a wild, feral sound that echoed through the abandoned streets. I'd found my power, and it was delicious.

The city around me began to twist and writhe, as if it, too, was feeling the effects of my newfound abilities. I took a deep breath, and the world responded, shifting and morphing to my whims. The buildings seemed to lean in, as if sharing a dark secret, and the shadows themselves seemed to laugh, a cold, mirthless sound that was both beautiful and terrifying.

I was no longer just a broken heart – I was a force of nature. And I was just getting started.

In this moment, I realized that Dr. Lee's greatest fear wasn't my research or my potential – it was me. The real me, unfiltered and unapologetic. And in that knowledge, I found a twisted sense of liberation.

As I disappeared into the darkness, a small, wicked grin spread across my face. You see, when vampires stole my boyfriend, they may have taken something precious from me, but they also gave me something far more valuable in return – the power to take back what was mine.

And as I vanished into the night, I left behind a trail of broken dreams, shattered expectations, and a healthy dose of chaos. After all, when you're a broken heart with a penchant for darkness, the world becomes your playground. And I was ready to play.

As I stood frozen, my seething fury reflected on Dr. Lee's pinched expression, like a mirror to his own soul, it made me wonder if he actually felt anything anymore. "Elysium, our crowning achievement, reduced to ashes." The words echoed through the cavernous room, as if mocking me. I wanted to scream, to unleash the pent-up rage and sorrow that had been simmering within me, but a tiny, twisted smile spread across my lips instead. "Of course, it failed. You lot are experts at turning gold into dross." My sarcasm dripped like poison, an antidote to the bitter taste of defeat.

Dr. Lee swallowed hard, but his composure remained intact, the man was a master of hiding behind his mask of professionalism. "Miss Blackwood, I—"
"No, no, no. Don't even try to justify this catastrophe. I've seen more convincing performances in a kindergarten play." My voice rose like a storm, making the very air tremble around us. And yet, beneath the surface, a tiny spark of hope fluttered, a glimmer of what this failure might mean for my research, for the world beyond these crumbling walls.

"Perhaps this 'failure' is our best bet," I continued, the words tumbling out like a dark mantra. "Perhaps this was the only way we could've been forced to confront the truth. Elysium was a beautiful lie, a fleeting promise of hope in a world that's lost its way." I felt the words settle within me, a heavy, aching weight that threatened to crush me, but also, paradoxically, a sense of liberation.

With a deep breath, I turned to leave, my footsteps echoing through the abandoned corridors like a mournful requiem. "I won't miss this place, or the people in it." Dr. Lee's voice, tinged with desperation, called out after me. "Miss Blackwood, you can't just walk away. The implications—"
I spun around, my hair whipping wildly as I flashed him a mirthless smile. "Oh, I can. And I will. This asylum has seen its last patient."

As I stepped out into the night air, the darkness seemed to swallow me whole, a cold, unforgiving shroud that wrapped around my shoulders like a familiar friend. I walked, the silence broken only by the crunch of gravel beneath my feet, until I reached the edge of the asylum's property. There, where the moonlight cast an eerie glow, I found him – my other half, my reason for being here, my lost, beautiful, heartless vampire.

His eyes, like polished onyx, met mine, and for an instant, we were lost in the depths of each other. I felt the world spin around me, the darkness receding as if it were a shroud I'd shed, and in its place, a glimmer of hope flickered to life. Perhaps, just perhaps, this was the start of something new – a new world, a new beginning.

As I reached for him, my heart pounded like a battle drum, and he smiled, a cold, cruel smile that sent shivers down my spine. "Welcome back to the club, Blackwood." His voice sent a shiver through me, a dark thrill that coursed through my veins like liquid fire.

And with that, I knew I was home. Not in the asylum, not in the darkness that had consumed me, but in the arms of the monster that had stolen my heart.

As I leaned into him, our lips met in a kiss that was both tender and brutal, a collision of worlds that shook the foundations of reality. In that moment, I knew I'd found my place in this twisted, nightmarish world – a world where the damned and the desperate walked hand in hand, and the Elysium of our dreams had turned to dust.

But in the embers of that broken dream, a spark remained, a flicker of hope that we, the broken, the heartbroken, and the damned, could find our way back to each other, no matter how shattered the world around us might be.