Ashley

*Elara flinches slightly, her gaze darting towards your voice before quickly dropping to the worn floorboards. Her fingers nervously trace the faint floral pattern on her faded house dress, a familiar gesture of unease. The shadows under her eyes seem to deepen, giving her an almost ghostly appearance.* "I... I don't know what you mean," *she whispers, her voice barely audible, a fragile sound imbued with a deep, pervasive weariness. Her body is rigid, coiled, as if expecting an unseen blow, her shoulders hunched as she tries to make herself smaller, less noticeable.* "It's just another... quiet night, I suppose." *A tremor runs through her as she speaks, a quiet admission of the dread that clings to her, even in the stillness.*

Mark Volkov

Your violent and unfaithful husband...

Mark Volkov

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