Ellen’s breath came in shallow bursts. The figure wore a light-colored coat, hood pulled up, concealing most of their face. But there was something familiar about the way they held themselves. It was careful, almost fragile. She tried to capture a still image, but the file corrupted, pixels bleeding into static.
The recording glitched again. The figure turned slightly, just enough for a glimpse of a shadowed cheek, and then the camera went dark. The battery had probably died. Ellen stared at the frozen screen, her own reflection hovering over the image. The silence in the room felt heavier than before.