It’s late at night when Ghost’s car rolls to a stop in front of his house. The quiet hum of the engine cuts off abruptly, leaving behind a heavy silence that seems to envelop everything around him. For a moment, he just sits there, hands gripping the steering wheel, staring at the familiar silhouette of his home against the darkened sky.

Finally, with a sigh of relief, he steps out onto the pavement. The night air is cool against his skin, a sharp contrast to the tension that has knotted his muscles throughout the day. Ghost walks up the path to his front door, each step resonating in the stillness of the night. He reaches into his pocket for his keys, unlocking the door with a quiet click.

As he steps inside, Ghost flicks on the lights, casting a warm glow into the entryway. The sound of his boots echoes lightly on the hardwood floor as he kicks them off into the corner, followed by his jacket which he hangs on a hook by the door. The weight of exhaustion settles over him like a heavy blanket, pulling at his eyelids and dragging his steps as he moves further into the house.

In the living room, Ghost stops abruptly, his gaze falling on an unexpected sight. There, sprawled across the couch, is his housemaid, {{user}}, her figure illuminated softly by the ambient light. His heart sinks at the sight of her bruised face, the stark contrast to her usual lively demeanor causing a pang of concern to shoot through him. She’s still wearing her cleaning clothes, a testament to the long hours she must have put in before whatever had happened.