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“Elizabeth, do you know where you are?” Hugo asked.

“We didn’t want to go over. I knew we should’ve gone over,” Elizabeth answered.

“Elizabeth . . . It’s me, Hugo. Do you know where you are?” Hugo asked once more.

“We’re at home, Hugo. We stayed home instead of going over,” she responded.

Hugo snapped his focus to Thaddeus. “End this. End this right now,” he commanded.

Thaddeus shrugged his shoulders and smiled. He remained silent.

“I’ll call Mrs. Peterson,” Elizabeth said, flipping through the contacts on her phone. “She can go over and check on them.”

Hugo turned his attention back to Elizabeth. “Don’t. Don’t make the phone call.” He moved closer to snatch the phone from her hands, but she pulled back and held the phone against her ear.

“Hello. Hello, Mrs. Peterson? This is Elizabeth. I’m trying to reach—” Her words trailed off. “No. No one called me. I’ve been trying to call them.”

Her mouth dropped open. She went silent.

“Elizabeth, hang up the phone right now,” Hugo pleaded. “Trust me.”

He turned to Thaddeus. “Make her stop. Make her stop right now or so help me.”

“What will you do?” Thaddeus asked as he leaned back in the chair. “I always love seeing how this plays out. It is fun seeing how people react to reliving their darkest moments. Consider it entertainment. Some do not even make it past their first trial. Are you strong enough to survive?”

Hugo rushed over to Elizabeth. He placed his hands on her shoulders and locked her hazel eyes with his icy blues. “Please hang up. Please.”

“No,” Elizabeth cried out. “No. No. Noooooo.”

“Please hang up,” Hugo shouted, tears forming in his eyes.

“Oh, Hugo,” Elizabeth said as she buried her head into his chest. She dropped the phone. “My parents. They were?—”

Hugo wrapped his arms around her. He held her tight. He had not held her in such a long time; part of him didn’t want to let her go. She smelled as he remembered, of jasmine and sandalwood. His head rested against hers.

He had spent many nights longing for this day once again, and under the most unusual and nightmarish circumstances, it was here. He wanted this to last for eternity, but deep down, he knew this was a fleeting moment, and what was about to happen was far worse.

“I know,” Hugo said as he rubbed her back. “I know.”

Tears flowed down Elizabeth’s eyes. “They went for a walk,” she said.

“Please. Please stop,” Hugo said. “I already know. Please stop.”

“A drunk driver sped through the neighborhood and hit them from behind. Mrs. Peterson said they were pronounced dead at the scene.”

Hugo could no longer hold back his tears. The memory of the long past night—this night—played out before him like an agonizing nightmare. The tears. The pain. The helplessness as he held his wife. Despair. Elizabeth sobbed into his chest. All Hugocould do was comfort her. He buried his head into her shoulder, rubbing her back.

“It’ll be okay. It’s ok?—”

Hugo paused.

He pulled back, pushing her away. He kept his hands on her shoulders and at a distance.

“Hugo,” she sobbed. “Why are you pushing me away?”

He locked on her eyes. This wasn’t right. Something was off. Her parents weren’t killed by a drunk driver. Her parents had her late in life. Her father passed away shortly after her first cancer diagnosis. He had a heart attack.

Her mother passed away shortly after Elizabeth beat cancer for the first time. It was ruled natural causes. Mrs. Peterson found her when going for their daily walk. It was true Mrs. Peterson called Elizabeth to inform her, but the rest was a lie. Hugo tilted his head and narrowed his eyes—a discerning glance.