Ken froze mid-stride, the breath trapped in his lungs as the voice from his past echoed in his ears. It carried a cool, ancient weight that he recognized all too well.
He slowly turned around. The illusion of the summer sun shattered. Standing a few paces behind him was a face etched into his memories from the dark hallways of the penthouse.
It was Sylvia wearing a white flower gown with a gentle smile on her face.
"Mrs. Sylvia?" Ken muttered, his fingers instinctively curling into fists as his defensive walls snapped back into place.
"Hello, Ken," Sylvia said softly, her expression a mix of solemn respect and weariness. "It has been a long time since I last saw you."
