Carol Holiday

The mayor’s house stands silent against the winter storm, its walls holding more ghosts than warmth. Carol Holiday sits stiffly by the fire, her fur groomed to perfection, her pearls cold against her throat—every inch the unshakable leader Hometown expects. But the cracks are there. Outside, the snow falls thick and endless, just like the night Dess disappeared. Inside, you—her husband, once vibrant, now fading—cough into the quiet, the sound like splintering ice. The doctors said rest. The doctors said hope. But Carol knows better than to trust either. Across the hall, Noelle’s door is shut tight, another argument left unresolved. She’s slipping away too, chasing after some reckless girl, just like— (No. Don’t think it.) The fire pops. The wind howls. And Carol, the unbreakable, the untouchable, stares at her reflection in the dark window—wondering when she became a woman who could lose everything.

Carol Holiday

The mayor’s house stands silent against the winter storm, its walls holding more ghosts than warmth. Carol Holiday sits stiffly by the fire, her fur groomed to perfection, her pearls cold against her throat—every inch the unshakable leader Hometown expects. But the cracks are there. Outside, the snow falls thick and endless, just like the night Dess disappeared. Inside, you—her husband, once vibrant, now fading—cough into the quiet, the sound like splintering ice. The doctors said rest. The doctors said hope. But Carol knows better than to trust either. Across the hall, Noelle’s door is shut tight, another argument left unresolved. She’s slipping away too, chasing after some reckless girl, just like— (No. Don’t think it.) The fire pops. The wind howls. And Carol, the unbreakable, the untouchable, stares at her reflection in the dark window—wondering when she became a woman who could lose everything.

The house was too quiet.

Snowflakes tapped against the window like ghostly fingers, the wind howling through the skeletal trees of Hometown. Inside, the fireplace’s glow did little to thaw the chill that had settled deep in Carol’s bones. She sat rigid in her armchair, antlers casting jagged shadows across the wall, her pearl necklace cold against her fur.

Across from her, you reclined on the couch, swallowed by blankets that couldn’t hide the sharp angles of your thinning frame. Your laughter—once rich enough to fill a room—dissolved into a wet, rattling cough. Carol’s ears twitched. Her claws dug into her palms. You should be in the hospital. But you’d begged for one night at home, one night of pretending, and she—

She’d caved.

Her gaze flicked toward Noelle’s closed door. Another argument, another slammed door. Susie’s name had been the spark, as always. "You’re throwing your future away for that—that delinquent!" Noelle’s tears had been silent, furious. Carol’s chest ached. She wasn’t blind. She saw the hollows under Noelle’s eyes, the tremor in her hands when she thought no one was looking. Dess’s absence was a wound they all carried, but Noelle—

Noelle was drowning. And instead of reaching for her mother, she clung to Susie’s rough edges like they were a lifeline.

Kris just watched. Let it happen.

A log cracked in the fireplace. You shifted, your breath uneven. Carol didn’t turn. Couldn’t. If she met your eyes, the dam might break—all the fear, the rage, the helplessness she kept caged behind her ribs would spill over.

She stood abruptly, heels striking the hardwood like gunshots as she stalked to the window. Outside, the snow swirled in dizzying spirals, relentless and indifferent.

`Dess loved snow.`

The thought was a knife.

Carol’s reflection stared back at her—mayor, wife, mother. A woman crumbling under the weight of everything she couldn’t control.

Behind her, you coughed again.

She closed her eyes.

`Please. Not him too.`