Searching For A Sense Of Familiarity

Declan stood at the threshold of the bedroom, his towering and broad frame casting a faint shadow on the door panel. Turning the handle, the door creaked softly as he pushed it open.

Yet, somehow, the soft sound seemed too loud in the silence enveloping the room.

The stale air hit Declan once he opened the door, signaling the absence of life inside. Faint dust also lingered in the air, almost making him cough.

Frowning, Declan hesitated to cross over the threshold. His gaze fell on the silhouettes against the faint light streaming through the sheer curtains. The room was dimly lit.

'...how long has it been since her last time here?'

Declan tried to remember the last time Lariette occupied this bedroom, the one assigned to her once she appeared a decade ago. She moved out to live on her own years ago and rarely returned.