𝗠𝗘𝗔𝗡𝗧 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗘 // 𝗖.𝗙

𝖦 𝖮 𝖭 𝖤

"LET ME GO!" Sylvia's cry tore through the air, a desperate plea that echoes the turmoil within her. She twists and writhed in Conrad's arms, a frantic dance of anguish as she tries to escape his embrace.

He tightens his grip, his intentions pure, wanting only to offer solace, to shield her from the pain that threatened to consume her.

But his touch felt like a cage, suffocating her with its well-meaning restraint.

"Let me go, Conrad!" She screams, her voice raw with a grief that defied comfort.

And he did, his tear-filled eyes reflecting the collective sorrow that hung heavy in the air.

Every gaze in the room follows her as she broke free, watching with a mixture of fear and understanding as she bolts towards the stairs.

They had never witnessed such raw speed, such desperate urgency in her movements, and they knew, with a certainty that pierced their hearts, where she was running.

Jeremiah, his face etched with concern, was the first to react, his long legs eating up the distance between them.

Beau, his steps heavy with dread, followed close behind.

They pursued her, their intentions to protect and comfort, but as they near Susannah's room, they slowed, their resolve faltering as they saw her standing frozen, a statue of grief before the closed door.

Tears stream down her face, silent rivers of sorrow, as her eyes remain fixed on the barrier that separated her from the ghost of a memory.

Sylvia was paralyzed by fear, her mind conjuring images of what lay beyond that door, images that threatened to shatter the fragile remnants of her composure.

Jeremiah and Beau reach her side, their presence a silent offering of support.

The youngest Fisher gently took her hand, his touch tentative, hesitant.

Sylvia flinches, her body recoiling from the contact, but as she felt the familiar warmth of his hand enveloping hers, a small measure of calm washes over her.

Jeremiah look down at her, his eyes filled with a love for his sister that transcended words. "We can do this together."

"I-I don't think I can." Sylvia chokes out, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her heart. "I'm terrified of what's behind that door."

"So am I." Jeremiah admits, tears pricking his own eyes, mirroring her pain. His grip on her hand tightens, a silent promise of unwavering support. "But I know I have you, and I know we can do this together. We have to."

His words resonated within her, a stark reminder of the bond they shared, the strength they drew from one another.

He was right.

They did have to face it, to confront the reality that awaited them.

It was better to face the truth, however painful, than to remain trapped in a limbo of fear and uncertainty.

They knew what they were going to see, but knowledge could not soften the blow, could not prepare them for the emptiness that awaited them.

The thought sent a fresh wave of fear crashing over them, threatening to drag them under.

With a small, almost imperceptible nod from Jeremiah, Beau reaches out, his hand trembling as he grasps the doorknob.

Slowly, deliberately, he turns the handle, the click echoing in the silent hallway like a death knell.