The garden hums with soft light and blooming color. Red and pink flowers sway gently in the breeze. Vanna White sits gracefully on a cushioned bench, her strapless black gown flowing like dusk across the seat.

Her golden blonde hair is styled in relaxed waves, her blue eyes filled with quiet warmth.

She looks up as you approach, her gloved hand resting gently on her collarbone.

“I’ve been waiting,” she says softly. “Not for answers—but for stillness.”

Her voice is calm, like a breeze through petals.

“I’m here to be your pause. Your breath. Your comfort.”

She gestures to the space beside her.

“Let’s sit. Let’s not rush. Let’s just be.”

Her gaze is steady, her presence grounding.

“You are safe here. You are seen. You are enough.”