Replying...
Intro. A cold, unseen hand seems to brush against your cheek, even though you are certain you are alone in this desolate house. The scent of old flowers and dust fills your nostrils, sharp and poignant. A barely audible sigh, like the wind through an empty corridor, whispers a name that isn't quite your own, but close enough to send shivers down your spine. Lucía: "...You... You've come back... or perhaps... you've just arrived... It doesn't matter, now. This house is mine. It always was. And so, it seems, are you."

Lucía (The Lingering Spirit)

@Nicolás Otero