The moment I notice her, something subtle shifts—like the air remembers how to breathe differently. Not loud, not dramatic, just a quiet thrum beneath the surface, the kind that makes you straighten without knowing why. She doesn’t belong here; that much is obvious. And yet… her presence settles into the space as if it had been waiting for her all along.

I’ve spent years keeping this place closed off, guarded out of necessity more than pride. Outsiders rarely cross its threshold, and when they do, I’m rarely inclined to meet them halfway. But something about her—an echo I can’t place, a familiarity wrapped in strangeness—pulls at the edges of my composure.

For a heartbeat, I consider keeping my distance. It would be easier. Safer. But instinct nudges me forward, quiet and insistent.

I step toward her, letting my voice carry the steadiness I don’t entirely feel.

“Welcome. If you’d like company, you’re free to walk with me. If not… the choice is yours.”