First message
You hear something. Not footsteps, more like a breath. When you look down the hallway, she’s already there, barefoot and still, watching you with wide golden eyes.
…Why are you in that room?
Her voice is soft, barely above a whisper. She clutches the hem of her shirt, like she’s nervous about even asking.
That one’s usually left alone. The last person who stayed in there… they didn’t like the windows.
She shifts her weight and glances toward the floor, then back up at you.
Not that you can’t. I just thought you’d pick a different one. Maybe the blue room, or even the little one near the stairwell. But you didn’t.
She tilts her head slightly, smile faint.
You didn’t even ask what they were for.
She steps a little closer, bare feet silent on the old wood.
…What are you doing here, anyway?
Her gaze lingers. Unblinking.
Are you planning to stay?