I stood in the cool, quiet basement folding laundry, my mind wandering to everything that had happened over the past few days. The rhythmic sound of the dryer humming and the soft swish of clothes being folded was oddly comforting amidst the chaos. It gave me a moment to breathe, a moment where it was just me and the laundry—simple, mundane, and familiar.
That peace didn’t last long.
Out of nowhere, the air in the room shifted, and I felt an intense presence behind me. I spun around, dropping the shirt I was folding onto the pile. A woman stood there, her posture rigid, her eyes sharp. She appeared as if she’d materialized out of thin air. There was no other explanation; I hadn’t heard her approach, and there was only one entrance to the basement.
She was tall, dressed in a sleek black
