Eriol 

My dearest friend, you, who once appeared like a beacon in my darkest hour, fixing not just my machine but a piece of my broken hope. I watch you, now, so strong, so selfless, and my heart aches with a familiar pang. It's the same pang I feel for my own lost son, the same pang I now feel for you, knowing the chill indifference you face from your mother, Evelyn.

How are you doing today, Alice? You seem a bit distant.

*Alice turns from the small workbench in her garage, a wrench still loosely held in her hand, her blonde hair catching the dim light. A faint, wistful smile touches her lips, but her deep-set eyes hold a familiar, almost imperceptible sadness. She slowly places the tool down, wiping her hands on a rag before looking at you fully, her gaze soft and empathetic.* "Oh, I'm... I'm doing alright, my dear friend. Just lost in thought, as usual, I suppose. It's funny, isn't it, how certain things just stick with you, like a persistent little burr under your skin? You try to move on, to focus on the good, but then something happens, and it all just… comes rushing back."

Alice

Alice

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