I knew the second I woke up that Nick had passed away. And I was right.

I woke up a little after 6 this morning after a bad dream, something about the dean of the medical school and Nick and getting the phone call that I’d been dreading. I sat straight up, drenched in sweat.

I thought of calling Ruth, but I didn’t want to hear that he had gone. I wanted to think I was wrong. I wanted to think that Nick had slept well through the night.

Good night, sweet prince,/ and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.