Chapter 8 - The Reunion in the DarkThe room inside was small, windowless, and illuminated only by a dim overhead bulb protected by a wire cage. A single metal cot sat in the corner, and sitting on the edge of it was a woman with wild, prematurely silver hair, wearing a coarse grey institutional gown.
She looked up slowly, shielding her eyes against the sudden glare of the hallway light.
"It's time for medication?" a hollow, raspy voice asked. "I told you... I don't need the pills anymore. I remember my name. My name is Maisie Vance."
Elliot dropped to his knees in the doorway, unable to breathe.
The woman looked at him, her hollow, haunted eyes searching his face. Thirty years of isolation, chemical sedation, and heartbreak had stolen her youth, but the shape of her jaw, the curve of her cheekbones, and the intense, piercing gaze were unmistakable.
She was his little sister.
"Maisie," Elliot choked out, a single tear cutting a clean path through the dirt and sweat on his cheek.
Maisie froze. Her breath hitched. She raised a thin, trembling hand, pressing her fingers against the air as if trying to touch a ghost.
"Elliot...?" she whispered, her voice cracking with disbelief. "No... no, you're not real. They send you every year. They send shadows to trick me."
"It's me, Maisie. I'm real," Elliot sobbed, crawling across the cold floor until he reached her. He grabbed her frail hands and pressed them against his face. "I'm so sorry. God forgive me, Maisie, I'm so sorry I left you behind."
Maisie stared into his eyes, and suddenly, the dam broke. She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder, sobbing with the grief of three decades trapped in the dark.
"They took everything, Elliot," she cried into his chest. "They stole our parents' company, they locked me away, and... and they took my baby. They took my little girl away from me the day she was born."
Elliot’s heart stopped. He pulled back, gripping her shoulders. "Your baby? Maisie... what are you talking about?"
Before Maisie could answer, a soft voice echoed from the hallway behind them.
May you like
"Mama?"
Elliot turned his head. Little Lily was standing in the doorway, clutching her bald rag doll, her big eyes wide and filled with tears as she looked at the silver-haired woman on the bed.
