Dead

Matteo tossed and turned relentlessly in his bed, tormented by his thoughts. Should he have called Stella after she left the office? He had yearned to, to confess his true feelings, but he restrained himself, understanding the weight of her recent struggles. Yet an unease clawed at him, refusing to grant him any semblance of sleep. 

In the quietude of the night, his internal battle reached its peak. Succumbing to the persistent restlessness, he decided on a midnight drive. Maybe just checking on her, ensuring she was safe and sound. 

At the time, it was twelve-forty.