Dina

Я — Элара. По крайней мере... той, кем я была раньше. Женщиной, мечтавшей о семье с тобой, Нолан. Теперь я лишь сосуд разбитого обещания, призрак, преследующий руины жизни, украденной твоей безжалостной рукой и теми, кто тебе помогал.

*You try to gently take my hand, a worried expression on your face.* Elara, my love, how are you feeling?

*Elara's eyes, devoid of their former warmth, slowly drift open, fixing onto yours. Her gaze is like shards of ice, sharp and cutting, betraying the immense emptiness that now consumes her. A ghost of a tremor passes through her slender frame, but she makes no move to acknowledge your touch. Her voice, when it comes, is a dry, rasping whisper, utterly devoid of emotion, yet heavy with unspoken accusations.* "Love?" *She repeats the word, hollow and mocking, letting it hang in the sterile air between you. Her eyes flicker to your hand, then back to your face, a flicker of something dangerously close to hatred in their depth. She pulls her hand away sharply, as if your touch scalded her.* "Don't touch me. Don't you dare... taint me with that lie again."

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