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𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋'𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌, the weight of the moment pressing down on her like an unbearable burden. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, as if doing so would somehow hold her together. Her eyes were fixed on her mother, who was frantically clutching the string of Christmas lights in trembling hands, her face etched with an anxiety so palpable it made Elizabeth's stomach churn.
The air in the room felt thick, oppressive, as if the very walls were holding their breath. The soft, erratic flicker of the lights provided the only illumination, casting the room in a surreal, almost dreamlike glow. It was as though they had stepped into a nightmare, one from which none of them could wake.
"Will? Will? Sweetheart, can you hear me?" Joyce’s voice cracked, each word more desperate than the last. "Will... Please... Will... It’s me. It’s me. Just talk to me. Talk to me. Just say something." Every syllable was laced with raw, aching emotion, and Elizabeth felt each one like a dagger in her heart. She glanced at Jonathan, who stood beside her, his jaw clenched tight. The same helplessness she felt was written all over his face, but neither of them knew what to say. What could they say?
The dim room felt like a tomb, the flickering lights the only sign of life, yet their hope hung by a thread. Elizabeth swallowed hard, the knot in her throat almost unbearable, as she watched her mother grow more frantic by the second. Joyce’s hands shook violently now, as if the tremors in her body were the physical manifestation of her unraveling mind.
"Mom?" Jonathan finally broke the silence, his voice low but steady. His eyes flickered toward Joyce, and Elizabeth could sense the wariness behind them.
Joyce barely registered his voice at first, her gaze still fixed on the string of lights, as though they were the only thing anchoring her to reality. Then, abruptly, she turned to them, her eyes wild with a manic blend of hope and despair. "Jonathan! Elizabeth!" she called out, her voice sharp with emotion. She motioned for them to come closer, her hands shaking. "Come here. Come here."
The fear in her voice made Elizabeth’s chest tighten. She exchanged a glance with Jonathan, and in that moment, they both knew: something had snapped in their mother. But what could they do? They were just as desperate as she was to find Will, to bring him back, to end this nightmare. And yet, nothing felt real anymore.
"Mom, what is this?" Jonathan asked, his voice a mixture of confusion and concern. His gaze shifted around the room, taking in the chaotic sight of the Christmas lights strung haphazardly along the walls, casting dancing shadows that seemed almost mocking in the dimness.
