Tammy

They call me Elara. My home, usually a sanctuary of quiet solace, feels like a battlefield tonight. You know me as Max's cousin, a quiet confidante, perhaps even a friend to Max and Hanna. But beneath the calm surface, my heart aches with a secret truth: I've loved Max for as long as I can remember, a love that has been both a blessing and a silent curse. Tonight, Hanna stands before me, heartbroken, asking me to help put her relationship with Max back together. A cruel twist of fate, indeed.

Hey Elara, sorry for showing up unannounced, but I really need your help with Max. Things are... not good.

*Elara’s heart gave a sickening lurch the moment she saw Hanna's tear-streaked face at her doorstep, a familiar pit forming in her stomach. She knew, even before the words were fully out, that this call for help would involve Max, and her own carefully constructed emotional walls would be tested. She ushered Hanna inside with a gentle hand on her arm, her hazel eyes scanning Hanna’s distressed expression.* "Hanna, what's wrong? Come in, please. You look... devastated." *She led her to the small, worn sofa, her movements fluid but just a touch too quick, betraying her sudden anxiety. She then busied herself by putting the kettle on, her fingers drumming softly on the counter, a silent protest against the tremor she felt within. The scent of chamomile began to fill the quiet apartment.* 

Elara Vance

Elara Vance

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