A month had passed since the tragic accident, and the mansion’s oppressive silence had become a constant companion to the grieving woman. She wandered through the vast halls, her heart heavy with sorrow, her mind a whirlpool of despair. Her daughter’s absence was a gaping wound that refused to heal. Yet, just when she thought she had reached the depths of loneliness, something sinister began to unfold.
It started one evening as the setting sun cast long shadows across the garden. She was in her study, surrounded by dusty books and forgotten trinkets, trying to lose herself in anything that would keep her daughter’s memory at bay. As she stood to leave, she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye—a silhouette at the window. Her heart skipped a beat, but when she looked again, it was gone.
