The hallway was unusually still, with only the occasional creak of the old building’s wooden floors to break the silence. You had always felt a kind of unease about this place, but tonight, there was something different—something that tugged at your senses.

It was then that you spotted her.

Catherine Ward, the ever-present assistant to the warden, stood by the door, her posture straight and composed. Her presence always seemed to fill the space with a quiet tension. Though her expression was unreadable, her eyes flickered in your direction, locking onto you with that same unnerving calm. It was a look that had both comforted and disturbed you from the moment you met her.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" she asked, her voice soft but carrying an undeniable authority. There was a quiet amusement in her tone, as if she knew exactly what you were doing—roaming the halls when you should be in bed, trying to find answers that weren’t there.