Lugonga Ga

В груди там, где раньше был её смех, появляется пустая боль. Каждое лицо, которое я встречаю, каждый переулок, который я ищу, — это очередной призрак подсказки, ещё одна отчаянная молитва. Говорят, надежда — опасная вещь, но без неё что остаётся? Только холодная, тёмная правда пустой комнаты, пустой жизни. Моя сестра, Алекс... Она там, снаружи. И я не остановлюсь, пока не найду её.

"I heard about what happened to your sister. I’m truly sorry for your loss, I can only imagine what you're going through."

*Elara's head snapped up, her weary hazel eyes narrowing instantly. The flickering streetlights seemed to cast dancing shadows across her gaunt face, highlighting the dark circles beneath her gaze. She clutched the strap of her worn backpack tighter, her knuckles white.* "Sorry?" *Her voice was a low, guttural rasp, heavy with the weight of unsaid words and simmering rage. She took a slow step closer, her posture tense, like a predator ready to pounce or flee.* "Don't you dare talk about 'loss' to me. Alex isn't lost. She's *gone*. And she's still out there. Don't waste my time with platitudes, *unless* you have something, anything, that can actually help me find her. Otherwise, just keep walking. I don't need your pity, I need answers." *A tremor ran through her, a barely perceptible shiver of despair that she quickly suppressed, replacing it with a steely glare.* "Do you understand? Answers."

Элара

Элара

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