『Episode 5: Centrellus, Chapters 10-11』のカバーアート

Episode 5: Centrellus, Chapters 10-11

Episode 5: Centrellus, Chapters 10-11

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10月19日まで。※適用条件あり
Centrellus by Ray KrossChapter 10: Echoes of Celebration (Hannah’s Story)OneThe biting December wind whipped across the parking lot of the McClure Motel, carrying with it the scent of woodsmoke and the distant hum of holiday carols. Hannah, now a twenty-one year old senior at Edinboro University, pulled her old Volvo into a space beside the office, the engine sighing in relief as she turned the key. A string of multicolored Christmas lights, slightly crooked and charmingly haphazard, outlined the motel’s facade, casting a warm, inviting glow against the encroaching darkness.She stepped out of the car, the cold air instantly nipping at her cheeks. A half-hearted smile tugged at her lips as she surveyed the familiar sight. Home. Even with its slightly peeling paint and the neon sign that flickered intermittently, it was a comforting beacon in the winter landscape.Inside the small office, the air was thick with the aroma of pine and cinnamon. Carl, her father, stood behind the check-in counter, his weathered hands polishing a brass bell. He looked up, his face breaking into a wide grin.“Hannah girl!” he boomed, his voice rough but warm. “You made it through that snow.”“Daddy,” Hannah replied, her voice softening. She crossed the room and hugged him tightly. “It wasn’t too bad. Just glad to be here.”Carl held her at arm’s length, his eyes searching her face. “You look a little…tired.”Hannah shrugged, forcing a smile. “Just college stuff. You know.”He didn’t press, but his gaze lingered, a silent question hanging in the air.“Where’s Carrie?” Hannah asked, changing the subject.“She’s in the apartment, putting the finishing touches on dinner,” Carl replied, his voice laced with pride. “She and Keith are excited to see you.”Hannah’s smile finally reached her eyes. “Good. I’m excited to see them too.”As she walked towards the apartment behind the office, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses drifted through the thin walls. Inside, the apartment was a riot of Christmas cheer. A small, but vibrant Christmas tree stood in the corner, adorned with handmade ornaments and twinkling lights. Carrie, her sister, was bustling around the small kitchen, her cheeks flushed with warmth. Keith, Carrie’s husband, was leaning against the counter, nursing a glass of eggnog.“Hannah!” Carrie exclaimed, abandoning the stove to embrace her sister. “You’re here! It feels like forever.”“It’s only been a few weeks, dork,” Hannah chuckled, returning the hug.“Feels like months,” Carrie countered, pulling back to study Hannah’s face. “You look…a little down. What’s wrong?”Keith, ever the peacemaker, spoke up. “Leave her alone, Car. She probably just had a long drive.”Carrie shot him a playful glare before turning back to Hannah. “Well, whatever it is, we’ve got Christmas cheer to fix it! Eggnog?”Hannah hesitated, then nodded. “Please.”As she accepted the drink, the warmth of the apartment and the love of her family began to melt away the chill that had settled in her bones. But beneath the surface, a familiar ache lingered, a reminder of the loneliness she carried with her from Edinboro.TwoThe small dining table in Carl and Valerie’s apartment was laden with a feast of Christmas Eve traditions. A golden-brown ham sat at the center, surrounded by bowls of creamy mashed potatoes, bright green beans, and a colorful array of salads. The air crackled with the warmth of the oven and the mingled scents of savory food and sweet spices.Carrie, ever the hostess, flitted around the table like a sparrow. She adjusted forks that were already straight and topped off glasses of sparkling cider that were still full. Her laughter was a bright, determined sound, but it rang a little too loud in the small room, bouncing off the heavy quiet that Hannah had carried in with her like a suitcase.Keith watched his wife’s nervous energy with a patient smile. He raised his glass, the cider catching the light from the tinsel-draped lamp. “To family,” he said, his voice a warm, solid rumble. “And to being together.”“Hear, hear,” Carl added, his voice gravelly. He didn’t raise his glass. Instead, his big, work-roughened hand found Valerie’s on the tablecloth, his thumb rubbing slow circles over her knuckles. His gaze kept drifting to her face, not with pity, but with a fierce, helpless vigilance.Valerie sat at the head of the table, propped slightly by a cushion. The chemo had stolen the color from her face, leaving her skin pale and translucent, a map of faint blue veins. A soft, patterned scarf covered her head. She moved with a deliberate care, as if her bones were made of old glass. But her eyes—those were still Valerie’s. They held a spark of wry, undimmed joy. A faint sheen of sweat glossed her upper lip, but her smile was real.“To my people,” she said, her voice thinner than it used to be, but clear. “My noisy, wonderful ...
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