"I...I don't know," Elaine answered helplessly. She felt utterly overwhelmed by the pending disaster, as if a room is such disarray might sink the whole island. The queer flutter in her chest was maddening; part of her wanted to step inside the room, to start putting all of George's belongings in trash bags. The other part of her wanted to remain by the door, frightened that, somehow, it might be contagious.
It was all utter nonsense, of course. Rationally, she knew that. Rationally, she knew it would not spread to the rest of the house unless she let it...and that would simply never happen!
Fighting down the feelings of panic, Elaine stepped bravely into the room. She didn't venture into her daughters' rooms often anymore; she could inspect them from the doorways. Usually, her daughters were...tolerable at best. But this? This was unheard of!
"Go get some laundry baskets," she ordered, voice quivering a little. Organization was the key here. They just needed to meet this head on... "Now, Georgiana," she added, perhaps unnecessarily. Driven by an indescribable panic, she stepped further into the room and began to snatch things off the floor, folding the clothing item hastily and setting it down to pick up another.