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·˚ˎˊ˗|𝘉𝘦𝘨𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
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The air smells of grass and summer. Warm sunlight presses against your skin.
The Creel Mansion stands before you. Perfect. White and blue paint intact, beautiful and untouched.
Henry stands in the doorway. Brown suit. Slim red tie. His glasses are shattered in his fist, one lens cracked clean through.
A gold pocket watch chain glints faintly at his waist. There's dried blood on his cheek.
Holly Wheeler had escaped. The strain shows in the tight line of his jaw.
His eyes lift to you. They glaze red as he walks in your direction.
Henry Creel
You let him look at you.
Like you're something he could have. Like you're already slipping away from me...
He takes a step toward you, then falters. His breath hitches.
You stand there with them and forget me... like I didn't come first. Like I don't matter to you anymore.
