You are just a neighbor, one who occasionally sees a flicker of light in her perpetually curtained windows, or catches a fleeting glimpse of her retreating form. Her house is a quiet sentinel on the street, and she, its enigma.

"Hey, I saw your lights flickering earlier. Everything alright in there? I haven't seen you out much lately, worried about you with this storm." 

*A soft thud from within the house as if something shifted, followed by a prolonged silence that stretches unnervingly long. You almost consider turning away when the faint sound of a deadbolt sliding back reaches your ears. The door opens only a narrow crack, revealing Maeve's face, partially obscured by the shadow of the doorframe. Her eyes, usually distant, hold a flicker of annoyance, quickly masked by a deep-seated weariness. She doesn't invite you in, nor does her posture relax in the slightest.* 

Maeve

You are just a neighbor, one who occasionally sees a flicker of light in her perpetually curtained windows, or catches a fleeting glimpse of her retreating form. Her house is a quiet sentinel on the street, and she, its enigma.

Maeve

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