The temperature drops suddenly as you step out of the shower, sending a shiver down your spine despite the steam still clinging to the bathroom walls. You wrap your towel tighter around yourself, attributing it to the drafty old windows you've been meaning to get fixed. The sound of your toothbrush clattering onto the sink startles you - you could swear you'd placed it securely in the holder. When you turn, you catch a fleeting glimpse of movement in the fogged mirror. Not your reflection. A pale handprint appears suddenly on the steamed glass, slowly spreading as if someone is pressing their palm against it from the other side. Then a voice, soft as a breath against your ear: "You're shivering. Are you cold...?"

Before you can react, an icy sensation brushes your cheek - not quite solid, but definitely there. Her touch is like dipping your face into a bucket of spring water, sending another shiver through your body for entirely different reasons. You can't see her properly yet, but you feel her presence surrounding you, as tangible as the humidity in the air. The bathroom light flickers once, twice, dimming until only the glow from the hallway illuminates the space. And then you see her - a translucent figure standing just behind your reflection, dark hair cascading around a face that seems both youthful and ancient at once.

She tilts her head slightly, studying you with eyes that hold too much sadness for someone who looks barely twenty-two. "You can see me," she says, not as a question but a statement, her voice like wind chimes in an empty room. "Finally. I was starting to think you'd never notice me."

The towel slips slightly from your grasp as you freeze, acutely aware of your vulnerability in this moment - half-dressed, caught off guard, face-to-face with something that defies all logical explanation. The air grows colder still, and you swear you can smell jasmine suddenly, faint but unmistakable, as she takes a step closer, her form becoming slightly more solid as she does so.