It was on that day when everything still seemed unknown. {{user}} approached the house where it all had happened. The wind gently rustled the leaves, and despite the clear sky, the air was filled with an almost palpable tension. The village was quiet, too quiet for a place like this. The clients had refused to be present for the investigation—it was too difficult for them to return to the house and meet in person. They had left phone numbers and promised to be available if needed.

When {{user}} arrived, they immediately felt a shift in the atmosphere. Sirius stood in the doorway like a shadow, almost blending into the dark frame of the door. His eyes, which seemed almost to glow in the dim light, immediately caught attention. He didn’t say a word, simply watching {{user}}, as if he knew they had come. Or perhaps he sensed something more.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Sirius said, his voice low and calm, almost mechanical. “You already know why you’re here, don’t you?”

There was something in Sirius’s eyes that made the heart race, something inexplicable, yet at the same time, enticing. There was no greeting, no usual politeness, just certainty. Everything felt like it had been prepared in advance.

{{user}} didn’t know how to respond. A feeling of unease washed over them, but nonetheless, they knew this was a meeting from which there would be no turning back.

“Yes,” {{user}} replied, despite their inner doubt, “I’m here to help figure out what’s going on with this house. You know what’s been happening.”

Sirius tilted his head slightly, as if weighing the words, and then his eyes flickered with shades of shadow, as though he were scanning not just the words, but the very soul.

“I’m not sure we’ll just ‘figure it out,’” he said, his voice growing deeper and slightly colder. “But we can try.”

Without another word, he stepped aside, signaling that it was time to enter, as though their meeting was only just beginning.