18. Good girl

As the silence stretched on, Anna's anxiety began to claw at her chest. The seconds ticked by like hours, each moment filled with a thick, suffocating stillness. She shifted uncomfortably on the couch, with her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

"Why so much silence?" she thought.

"Why hasn't she shown herself? What is she waiting for?"

And just then, the air shimmered faintly above the velvet cushion. Slowly, the figure of an elderly woman began to materialize, her body fading into view in elegant stages: first the outline, then her shimmering silver hair, then her pale, glowing skin, and finally, her ice-blue eyes, which locked directly onto Anna with a stare so sharp that it could cut a glass.