Focus

After a bit more cleaning, the internet guy checks in, telling Ethan the job is done and the wifi should be working.

Taking a break, Ethan checks his phone. He'd been so caught up in all the motions he hadn't really looked at it the last few days. Now that he had wifi...

Emails.

Lots and lots of emails. They had really piled up over the last couple days, and after flopping onto the couch Ethan started to sort them. Most were junk. Some were condolences. And others were just annoying.

Handling his phone, he realized he hadn’t actually used it in over a day. Notifications had piled up, mostly apps failing to connect or update or something or other, but there were some other things.

Texts.

A few short weeks ago the idea of any piling up would have been absurd, but now…

Condolences near exclusively. Mostly people he didn't see at the funeral, and a few from some people who likely heard through the grapevine.

But one stood out from all the rest. Ethan shifted, sitting up straight, not fully believing what he was looking at.

One unread message…

…From Heather…