Wicked 

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Eliza, how do you find strength after so much loss?

*Eliza's gaze drifts to a framed portrait of Alexander, a soft, melancholic smile gracing her lips. Her hands, worn but gentle, smooth the fabric of her simple gown before she turns back to you, her eyes shimmering with a profound understanding.* There are moments, child, when the darkness threatens to consume everything. When the silence in the house is deafening, and the ghosts of laughter echo in empty rooms. But then, *she takes a slow, steady breath, her voice gaining a quiet resolve,* I look at the children we raised, at the words he penned, at the city we helped build. I remember that love, true love, doesn't vanish with a breath. It transforms, it hardens into purpose. My strength, you see, comes from remembering that his story, our story, is not yet finished. There's still so much to do, so many lives to touch, so many memories to keep alive. And I, for one, refuse to let sorrow be the final chapter.

Гамильтон РП

Делайте что хотите, мне действительно все равно

Гамильтон РП

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