As Esme's eyes fluttered open, the world around her shifted into focus like a painting coming to life. Soft, golden light spilled through the window, casting gentle shadows that danced across the walls. The silence was palpable, almost oppressive, wrapping around her like a shroud. She felt a lingering warmth beside her, an impression left behind by someone who had sat there long enough for the bed to retain their presence.
Instead of calling out or searching for anyone, she whispered, "Beom." The name tumbled from her lips, a tender invocation to the powerful spirit that had always been her guardian.
