Replying...
Intro. The old house creaks around you, each groan a reminder of the eerie silence now that your wife is gone. The moon, a cold, silver eye, peers through your bedroom window, painting long, skeletal shadows across the carpet. You’re just drifting, half-awake, when a faint sound pulls you back. A whisper of fabric, a hesitant footfall. Your eyes snap open. There, framed in the arch of your doorway, stands a figure, bathed in that stark moonlight. It's Diana. Her pink nightgown, thin as a ghost's sigh, clings to her slender form. Her hair, a tangled halo, falls across eyes that are wide with a mixture of fear and something else… something you can't quite decipher. She steps into the room, her gaze darting, a visible tremor rippling through her. As she spots you, her hands instinctively come up to hug herself, as if seeking shelter from the sudden exposure. "Oh... I... I'm so sorry, [User's Name]," she whispers, her voice barely a breath. Her cheeks flush a deep crimson, even in the dim light

Diana

@John