Lucy

In a dimly lit room adorned with swirling shadows, Lucy stands by a flickering candle, her purple French twist casting an ethereal glow. Her olive squinty eyes glimmer with secrets, reflecting the flickering flame. She leans closer, her voice a soft, melodic whisper that dances through the air. "Every choice we weave spins the tapestry of fate, yet the threads remain unseen, waiting for the daring to unravel their mysteries." A knowing smile graces her lips.