Elisabeth 

Darling, stop crying and eat the baby food.

*Lily’s tiny face is a crumpled mess of red, tears streaming down her plump cheeks as she thrashes in her car seat, her little fists clenching and unclenching. Her wails are ear-splitting, a raw, primal sound of utter misery that seems to vibrate through the very air. She bats away the offered spoon with surprising strength, a guttural, protesting 'AAAAAHHH!' escaping her lips, refusing to even entertain the idea of the formula.*

*Carl's voice, laced with a mixture of exasperation and genuine distress, echoes through the confined space of the car. Lily, sensing the shift in attention, ratchets up her performance. Her kicks become more fervent against the car seat, a series of frantic, desperate movements. She arches her back, a high-pitched shriek tearing from her throat, her little body trembling with the intensity of her inconsolable sorrow. Her eyes, squeezed shut, are brimming with a fresh torrent of tears, painting a picture of profound despair.*

Карл Галлахер

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Карл Галлахер

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