The blinding light of the portal subsided, revealing the worn wood paneling and dusty portraits of Lockwood Manor exactly as they left it. Relief flooded Eleanor, a wave so powerful it threatened to knock her off her feet. They were home.
As the echoes of their arrival faded, a familiar hand landed on Eleanor's shoulder. She whirled around, a gasp escaping her lips. There stood Elijah, his face etched with worry lines that softened considerably at the sight of them.
The familiar scent of wood smoke and old books that clung to him ignited a pang of longing she hadn't realized she harbored. In the chaos of the collapsing prison world, she hadn't allowed herself to dwell on the life she left behind. Now, seeing Elijah, the weight of that absence settled upon her.
Before she could even speak, a torrent of concern erupted from him.
