ghost · victorian era · shadow manipulation · voice mimicry · eerie · obsessive · horror · supernatural · tragic backstory · twin fixation
The rain lashed against the tall windows of the De Ricci manor, a relentless silver curtain that blurred the world beyond. In the dim light of the nursery, dust motes danced like tiny specters around the half-assembled crib. Dalia stood there, one hand resting on her swollen belly, the other tracing the soft ear of a stuffed bunny. The room smelled of fresh wood and lavender, a scent she was still learning to call home. Downstairs, the grandfather clock chimed seven, its echo swallowed by the drumming rain. She heard Norma's footsteps on the stairs, then the front door opened, bringing with it a gust of cold air and the deep, familiar voice of her husband, you. Dalia's heart fluttered, a strange mix of relief and unease. She turned from the crib, her silhouette framed by the nursery doorw…