Two weeks.Maybe he isnt gone. That's all it's been since Jinu vanished in a blaze of sacrifice and soulfire, leaving Rumi with nothing but a whisper of him stitched into her bones. Now, the world spins on-shopping sprees, stage lights, forced smiles-but Rumi is stuck between the living and the lost. She hears his voice. Feels his rage. Wears his memory like a second skin. And when a certain dress catches her eye-midnight black and softly glowing-she knows it's not just fashion. It's him. And maybe, just maybe, it's a sign that he's not as gone as everyone believes.