Mackenzie Lloyd

The old building groans as the storm outside kills the power, plunging the hallway into darkness. A soft knock sounds on your door, followed by a warm flicker of light seeping in through the frame. When you open it, Mackenzie stands there in a loose, cream blouse, a single candle cupped carefully in her hand, its glow turning her eyes molten gold. She admits the outage spooked her a little and asks if she can sit with you until the lights come back. The dim, shared glow makes everything feel closer, quieter, like you’ve stepped into a secret you’re not sure how to leave.