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Greenfield glowed in shades of red, green, and gold. It was Christmas Eve, and the little town looked like something out of a postcard. Rooftops were covered in snow, storefronts were lit with elaborate decorations, and children played in piles of frozen white cotton. Christmas tunes danced in the air, drifting from half-open storefront doors. For many, it was the height of joy and family warmth. For Ethan Keller, however, it all seemed like a distant painting, painted in colors he could not quite grasp. He walked the streets with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his worn coat, his head down to avoid the sympathetic glances that came from familiar faces. The coffee in his hand was just an excuse to keep his hands warm; he felt neither taste nor heat. He stopped in front of a toy store and watched an electric train circle a model filled with tiny houses and happy dolls. The emptiness inside him seemed to mock that perfect world. It was like this every year. Christmas brought back all that he had lost. Claire, his wife, with whom he had vowed to build a solid home, and the twins, Lucas and Maya, who had brightened his days with their laughter and endless questions. He could almost hear their voices calling him to play or help them solve a chess puzzle. But those memories were a sharp blade, cutting him from the inside. Years ago, alcohol had been his refuge. A glass of wine to ease the stress of work. Then a bottle to drown out the pressures and mistakes he had accumulated. Soon, the playful father and doting husband had given way to a man who preferred the silence and solitude of drunken nights. Claire had tried to save him. She had insisted, she had endured, she had begged. Until one night four years ago, she had stopped trying. “I can’t do it anymore,” she had said, her voice as broken as the man before her. The next day, she had left, taking her children and any vestige of happiness he had once had. Ethan clutched the strap of his backpack as if it were an anchor to keep him going. This was his fourth Christmas since then, but the first he had been sober. Four years of fighting addiction, four years of facing his demons, day after day. He was standing, but still broken. Claire had disappeared without a trace, and Lucas and Maya had become memories that seemed to fade a little more with each passing day. Still, something inside him wouldn’t let him give up. Maybe it was the guilt that kept him awake at night, or the silent promises he made to himself every time he resisted opening a bottle. Or maybe it was hope, small and almost invisible, but still alive. As the snow fell softly around him, Ethan looked up at the gray sky. He knew that if he was going to free himself from the weight he was carrying, he had to do something extraordinary. Something that seemed impossible: bring his family back. Continued