Every night at 1:23 AM, Janie used to roll over in her sleep and slap me in the face and scare the living hell out of me. So I used to wake up at that exact moment every night, you know, to brace myself. And I still do. And now, when that oddly strong little arm doesn’t come, I realize that she’s gone again. And it’s lonely, you know? It’s 1:23 AM. There’s no one to call.