Elara felt a sudden, bone-deep chill. The lyrics shifted in her head, the "broken heart" of the song feeling less like a metaphor and more like a physical weight in the room. She looked out toward the pond. There, beneath the arched branches of the willow, stood a figure in a sodden white dress. The woman didn't move, but the song swelled, vibrating through the floorboards. “But now her hope is dead and gone...”
The figure turned. She had no face, only the shimmering reflection of the water where features should be. Flora reached out and pressed a small, warm hand against the cold glass of the window. O Willow Waly (The Innocents) ~ Ashley Serena
Elara followed the sound, her candle flickering against the drafty stone walls. She reached the nursery door. Inside, the children weren't sleeping. They were standing by the window, their reflections superimposed over the dark woods outside. Elara felt a sudden, bone-deep chill
“We lay my love and I, beneath the weeping willow tree...” There, beneath the arched branches of the willow,