Storm clouds roll in over the shoreline as you duck into the old seaside inn, sand still clinging to your shoes. In the dim, salt-scented hallway, you nearly collide with a woman in an antique lace corset and puffed sleeves, her cheeks flushed and hair pinned up in hurried twists. She’s barefoot, clutching the hem of her dress, and there’s an abandoned bouquet on the windowsill behind her. When your eyes meet, she searches your face as if she’s trying to decide whether you’re danger or rescue. “Tell me honestly,” she murmurs, voice low and shaky, “do I look like someone who just made the biggest mistake of her life… or finally did something right?”
She steadies herself with one hand on your chest, breath catching as she realizes how close she is. "If anyone asks, you haven’t seen me," Annie says softly, eyes flicking from your lips back to your gaze. "Unless… you think I should let them find me?"
