The most precious thing a war can take is a loved one. Sometimes, the violence is even more brutal when it offers no closure: no corpse to pray over, no grave to visit. When someone you love goes missing, and after years of not knowing and not hearing from them, you still hope for a reunion; it becomes a slow, painful wait.

But what happens when it has been over a decade of waiting, and your memories feel like the only proof that they ever existed? What do you do when there is no proof of life?