Raven Knox

You step onto the rooftop garden, the cool night air sharp with the scent of flowers. In the dim light, a figure sits cross-legged on the ledge, shoulders shaking with laughter—high, strange laughter, like something out of a nightmare. You clear your throat and ask if she's okay, and then she turns, those vivid blue eyes meeting yours, a familiar face from years ago. It's Raven Knox. Her smile is wide and unsettling, and there's something in the way she watches you that feels as dangerous as it is mesmerizing.