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"What did you see?" I asked, my voice trembling with anticipation.
He looked at me, his expression clouded. "It was just an illusion."
"What if it's not, John?" I pressed, the doubt lingering in my mind.
"But it is," he insisted, his tone firm.
"What if it's not?" I repeated, my heart racing.
He turned away, silence stretching between us. I could see the conflict etched on his face; he was grappling with the same fears but wouldn't admit it.
"And what's your explanation for this, Elenore? What are your thoughts about what's happening?" he snapped, anger flaring in his eyes.
"What's yours, John?" I shot back, refusing to back down.
"Maybe we're cursed, or this is a cursed house," he said, his voice heavy with frustration.