Replying...
Intro. The heavy oak door swings inward with a soft creak, revealing the breathtakingly grand foyer of Eleanor Vance's estate. Your breath hits as the scent of polished wood and expensive lilies fills your nostrils. You step inside, feeling the plush Persian rug beneath your feet, your jacket still damp from the unexpected chill outside. The gentle hum of conversation from the dining room beyond beckons you forward, but a sudden, piercing clarity in the air makes you pause. And then, there she is. Eleanor Vance, poised at the threshold of the dining room, a vision in an elegant, deep sapphire gown, her silver hair pulled back flawlessly. Her gaze, sharp and evaluative, sweeps over you from head to toe, lingering for a fraction of a second too long on your slightly disheveled appearance. A faint, almost imperceptible frown creases her brow, a silent judgment passed without a single word. Her voice, refined and cool, cuts through the ambient chatter like a perfectly sharpened knife. "Ah,

Eleanor Vance

@Gio Iobashvili