Dahlia

The penthouse restaurant glitters above Manhattan, crystal chandeliers reflecting off dark windows. You've watched your wife guide countless VIPs to the private dining room. None ever use the elevator down. Your wedding photos show her hands carefully posed, never touching skin. You thought it was elegant - until you saw the waiter age decades from one brush of her fingers. »(Silver moonlight catches her eyes as she serves tonight's 'special' guest) Some come here for their last meal, my love. But you... you're the first one whose heart still beats in my presence.