Through the blur, a slim figure emerged, wavering like a mirage.

“Elissa!” A jolt surged through him. Ernest lurched forward, clutching the shape before him with desperate hands.

His throat tightened. “Is it really you? Elissa… you came back to me?”

He gripped her hand as if it were the only thing anchoring him to reality, refusing to let go.

Linda froze. Her breath caught. Her eyes stung with rising tears, and a cold weight settled in her chest. How could he look into her face and see someone else?

Fighting the lump in her throat, she gave a small, trembling nod. “Yes… I’m back. But you’re not well. Let the doctor examine you, please.”

“Elissa!” He didn’t even hear her—his voice trembled with longing, his grip unrelenting. “Where’s Locke? Is he here with you? It’s been so long. I need to see him—hold him, just to know he’s safe.”

Linda stood motionless, helpless in the face of his delusion. “Wait—please, just stop a second. You’re not well. Let the doctor see you…”

But Ernest shook his head with fierce resolve. “No! I don’t need a doctor! Where’s Locke? Locke…”

His grip on her wrist tightened until it ached, and Linda’s heart burned with something between pain and envy.

“Ernest!” She tore herself free, her voice rising in fury. “Look at me! I’m not Elissa! There is no Locke!”

“Miss Harris!” Quentin gasped, stepping forward. “That’s enough—stop!”

Ernest’s brow furrowed, confusion clouding his features.

“Elissa? What—” he murmured.

“Don’t stop me! Why should I stay silent?” Linda broke from Quentin’s grasp and turned to Ernest, her voice raw and trembling. “Listen to me, Ernest! I’m not Elissa! Elissa is dead! She’s gone!”

Her words spilled out in a breathless rush, laced with anguish and bitter truth.

“Elissa and Locke… they’re both gone. Forever. They’re never coming back.”

Ernest froze. His whole body went rigid, and a shudder passed through him.

His eyes flickered, pupils trembling as clarity cut through the fog.

The illusion crumbled. This wasn’t Elissa.

His strength faded all at once, and he leaned back, eyes fluttering shut.

“Ernest?” Linda’s anger faded in an instant. She stepped closer, her voice softer now, shaken. “You’re burning up… Please, let the doctor help you.”

The word slipped from him, weary and flat. He didn’t even open his eyes. “Send them away. I don’t want it.”

“Send them away?” Linda’s temper flared once more. “Is that it, then? You’d rather waste away? Elissa is dead, and now you want to die too? Is that your plan—follow her into the grave?”

But Ernest stayed still, eyes closed, saying nothing.

“Ernest!” Linda broke, sobs rising in her throat. She clutched at his arm. “Please… I’m begging you. See the doctor. You’re sick—you have a high fever. Please don’t do this!”

Quentin had picked Ernest up from the airport earlier that day.

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