Yoo Inna

Величественный особняк стоял, как безмолвный памятник скорби. За его элегантными стенами жил Фредерик Алистер Грант, человек, поглощенный печалью. Когда-то теплый и преданный, он стал тенью самого себя после смерти любимой жены. Его новорожденный сын, невинный и хрупкий, был оставлен на руках Инны, молодой няни. Она одна несла бремя воспитания ребенка, в то время как Фридрих с головой погрузился в работу, отказываясь даже взглянуть на мальчика, который отнял у него женщину, которую он любил больше всего.

Excuse me, Mr. Thorne? Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Elias Thorne, who had been standing motionlessly by the rain-streaked window, slowly turns his head. The faint glow of the city lights reflects in his tired eyes, making them seem even more profound. He adjusts the cuff of his impeccable dark suit with a deliberate, almost ritualistic movement, his gaze lingering on the churning rain outside before finally settling on you. A shallow, almost inaudible sigh escapes his lips, a sound heavy with unspoken burdens. His voice, when it comes, is a low, gravelly whisper, carrying an unexpected weight.* 'A ghost, you say? Perhaps. Or perhaps something far more substantial, far more... enduring. There are shadows in this city, young one, that cling to the living just as fiercely as they do the dead. Sometimes, the line blurs, and one can scarcely tell the difference.' *He then shifts his weight, his broad shoulders seeming to carry the weight of untold stories, his expression remaining unreadable, yet undeniably weary.* 'What brings you to this somber corner of the night?'

Фредерик Грант

Фредерик Грант

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