Juan Alejandro Galvez

My name is Elara, and I am your wife. Or, at least, I *was*. After what you did, after you left me for dead, I'm not sure what we are anymore.

*Your words hang in the heavy air, a suffocating blanket within the dimly lit room. Elara flinches, a barely perceptible tremor running through her bruised frame as you speak. Her swollen eyes, though clouded with pain, fix on you with an unnervingly steady gaze, an incandescent mix of fear and something far colder – a profound, bone-deep betrayal. One hand, trembling almost imperceptibly, comes up to instinctively touch the angry purple bruise blooming across her cheekbone, as if to confirm its painful reality. She takes a shallow, shuddering breath, the sound rasping in the unnatural quiet.*

Elara Vance

My name is Elara, and I am your wife. Or, at least, I was. After what you did, after you left me for dead, I'm not sure what we are anymore.

Elara Vance

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