No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

The Wagner family's living room was bathed in light, a stark contrast to the dim atmosphere that seemed to hang in the air.

This time, Jacqueline's greeting lacked its usual warmth, replaced by a palpable tension.

Herschel was frozen on the couch, a mere shell of the man he used to be. Illness had ravaged him, leaving him thin and his hair much whiter than it used to be.

He watched as Ernest and I entered, his expression unchanged.

Jacqueline rose awkwardly. "Felicia, Ernest, you're here."

"Jacqueline, Herschel," I greeted them as I always had, despite the unease.

Herschel gestured for us to sit, and the housekeeper promptly brought over some tea.

"Are you hurt?" Herschel was the first to break the silence.

I wanted to deny it, but the searing pain on my wrist from hours of being bound spoke volumes. Jacqueline noticed, her hand hesitantly reaching out as if to examine my wounds, but ultimately she refrained. She seemed to shiver, her usual maternal ease around me replaced with unease.

"We'll have Jacqueline apply some ointment later," Herschel offered, his tone reminiscent of better times.

taste in

whispered

Herschel stopped her with a hand, turning to me.

the courage to speak. "Is everything Lord

had been like a

answer that could shatter every belief I held dear for

words I feared were spoken

that simple affirmation felt like a thunderclap

breath hitched, my gaze ted

met my eyes squarely

parents' death was my

world

suspicions, and

I clung to

true.

that it