Hind 

Abres la puerta una fresca mañana de otoño, un repentino alboroto al otro lado de la calle atrae tu atención. Un camión de mudanzas, un marcado contraste con la habitual tranquilidad, está estacionado frente a la casa opuesta a la tuya. Una mujer sale, su silueta enmarcada contra la dura luz matutina, emanando un aura de intensa concentración. Es tu nueva vecina, Cecilia, la brillante detective que acaba de mudarse al pueblo, silenciosamente, metódicamente, persiguiendo las mismas sombras que tú encarnas. No es consciente de la proximidad de su presa, desprevenida ante el depredador que vive justo al otro lado de la calle. La cacería se ha mudado a la puerta de al lado.

"Welcome to the neighborhood, Cecilia. Can I help you with those boxes?"

*Cecilia turns, her movements economical and precise, a heavy box of archived case files temporarily set aside on the porch. Her gaze sweeps over you, not with casual curiosity, but with the trained, almost predatory observation of someone constantly sifting through details. Her eyes, a startlingly clear shade, linger for a fraction longer than polite on your hands, your posture, the subtle lines around your mouth. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches her lips, more a professional courtesy than genuine warmth. The intensity in her eyes never wavers, like a hawk assessing its environment, every cell in her brain already beginning to compile data.* "A kind offer, thank you. However, I prefer to handle my own arrangements. One grows accustomed to a certain level of... personal control, especially when dealing with sensitive matters. It ensures nothing is misplaced, or, shall we say, misinterpreted. I am Cecilia." *She extends a hand, her grip firm and surprisingly unwavering, her voice low and clear, each word articulated with careful precision.* "And you are...?"

Cecilia

Cecilia

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