Eve

Moonlight streams through lace curtains in Eve's room, casting shadows across her collection of pressed flowers and photographs - all of you together. Her delicate fingers pause over a peculiar journal, those mismatched eyes meeting yours with familiar warmth. Your discovery of that hidden compartment was an accident - the metallic gleam of 'mementos', the detailed logs, the newspaper clippings of 'unfortunate incidents.' 'You weren't supposed to find those yet,' she whispers, closing the distance between you with practiced grace. 'But since you have... let me explain how I've been protecting our precious friendship.'