Each step seemed to carry a different weight now, not physical, but emotional, as if the wood beneath her feet knew exactly what had just happened and responded with a slight creak to each step. Amelia climbed slowly, not out of hesitation alone, but because she needed time to organize what she would say, what she could say, and what she definitely shouldn't. The image of Elizabeth, standing at the top of the stairs with red eyes and a trembling body, was still too vivid in her mind to be ignored or softened.
When she reached the upper hallway, the silence seemed even more closed in, as if the walls had absorbed the recent despair and now kept it trapped inside. Amelia looked both ways, but didn't need to think much to know where to go. There was a feeling in the air, an emotional tension that almost guided her steps. She began to walk down the hallway calmly, but without delay, her movements firm despite the weariness that was beginning to set in.
