Running a hand through his unkempt hair, twenty-year-old Ben Nelson flips a couple of pages in an Abstract Algebra textbook. Giving up, he shuts the book, still staring at the cover. His dorm room is dark, and he is alone. Heaving a long sigh, he rests his elbows on the table.
"Ben?"
Slowly, his eyes reopen. This is impossible, he thinks. Surely, this can't happen.
"Ben?"
Oh, but it is.
Ben stands up, pushing in the chair with one of his ankles. His gaze is fixed on the source of the soft voice. Tears spring to his eyes, and he begins to breathe quicker. It can't be. "Emily?"
