Chapter Text
"Are you comfortable, mom?" Lora asked, hovering at Edith's side like a hen to its chick. The older woman smiled as best she could, lifting a shaking hand to touch her daughter's wrist.
"I'm fine, Lora," Edith reassured her, and she was indeed doing fine. Her children had spared no expense redoing her bedroom, and she lay in a bed of silk and warmth. Joseph, her oldest, took her other hand, careful to keep his grip gentle. Thomas, her next, and Elizabeth, her youngest, sat close to her left. It warmed Edith's heart, that they were all there. Her children had dropped everything at the news of her quickly ailing health, had flown out to the old farm for their last goodbyes. Huh, she thought, looking between her grown children. Their last goodbyes. It'd been bound to come, her death, and she found that she regretted nothing. Her Tom, her children, they'd been the joys of her life. Now, though, now she would die in peace. Edith gave her daughter's hand a reassuring squeeze, getting a soft answering squeeze in return. Yes, she thought, her children were with her. Tom had passed years ago, a wound she would carry till the moment she died, but her sons and daughters had filled her life with joy. They were more than enou- Light flared suddenly before her eyes, a blinding flash that made her blink. Edith looked to the ceiling fan, frowning at it. Joseph had installed the thing years ago, had made certain that all of its parts worked well. Was it finally dying? Like her, Edith thought with a small flash of amusement, looking toward Joseph to tell him her joke. They were trying to keep smiles on their faces for her, she could tell, but she'd heard Thomas crying the other day, had heard the way Lora's voice went shaky as she'd spoken on the phone to her children. Yes, Edith thought, she would tell them her fine joke. Better to leave them with true smiles on their faces, than the crumbling facades of happiness they wore now.
"Jospeh," she said, looking to her eldest. "Joseph." Her son continued to gaze down at her, wordless and oddly still. "Joseph?" Taken aback by his strange behavior, Edith looked to her other children, at Elizabeth's frozen smile and Thomas's motionless frame, Lora's face a mask of dawning concern and agony. What... What was happening? "Thomas," Edith questioned, "Lora? Elizabeth?" Still they did not answer her, and she felt a chill take root as she looked between her motionless children. What was happening? Why were her children-
"I'm getting tired of this," Elizabeth spoke, her voice near flat and monotone.