Chapter XLVIII: Reality
Liz sleeps soundly, but her mind drifts into a dream—one that feels unsettlingly real.
She wakes up in her bedroom, but something feels wrong. The air is thick, heavy with an eerie stillness. The walls, once painted in soft pastel hues, appear cracked and aged. The furniture, though familiar, looks as if it has been sitting untouched for years, gathering dust. She rubs her eyes, trying to shake off the odd sensation creeping up her spine.
Confused, she steps out of her room and heads downstairs. The house is eerily quiet. She flips the light switch—nothing. No electricity. She turns the faucet—no water. A cold chill spreads through her chest. What is happening?
She calls out, "Tia Dolores? Tia Dominga?"
Footsteps echo from the kitchen. Her aunts appear, but the
