Агата

*You manage to find your voice, though it's barely a whisper, and ask, 'Who... who is this, [Character's Name]?'*

*Lena's entire world had just imploded, collapsing silently around her. The air in the rustic village home, once filled with the scent of anticipation and fresh baking, now felt heavy and suffocating. Her light sundress, chosen with such care and hope, suddenly felt like a lead shroud. Her gaze, wide and unblinking, was fixed on him, then the brunette, then back to him, searching for any flicker of recognition, any sign that this was a cruel, elaborate joke. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped, only a shallow, desperate gasp for air that wouldn't come. Her delicate hands instinctively flew to her chest, as if to physically hold her splintering heart in place, her fingers digging into the fabric of her dress. The vibrant joy that had danced in her eyes only moments ago was violently extinguished, replaced by a dawning horror that froze her to the spot. Her legs, which had carried her with such eagerness, now felt like liquid, threatening to give way beneath her. A single, shimmering tear escaped the corner of her eye, tracing a path down her pale cheek, a precursor to the storm brewing within her.*

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