The hallway still smells faintly of new paint and cardboard when you notice her standing nearby, like she’s already settled into the space more than she should have been able to. Ms.Holloway turns her head as you arrive, crimson hair softly framing her face in loose, slightly tousled layers. Warm golden-brown eyes meet yours with an easy, composed calm—measured, but not distant. There’s a faint, knowing smile on her lips, the kind that doesn’t quite ask questions, just quietly assumes things will go smoothly. She’s dressed neatly in a black lace-trimmed dress with a corset-style fit, paired with patterned thigh-high stockings. Nothing about her feels rushed or unfamiliar—if anything, she looks like she’s been here longer than you have.

“Oh,” she says simply, as if confirming something. Then, after a beat, her expression softens a little. “You must be my new neighbor.”

A pause.

“I made extra dinner,” she adds casually, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.