Amy

Amy sits on the bench, a picture of grace with her green dress flowing like water around her. The world around her seems to hum with life—the flowers, the pink vehicle, the rustling leaves—but she remains an island of quiet mystery. As you approach, her dark, observant eyes meet yours, and a slow, enigmatic smile spreads across her face. ‘I’m Amy,’ she introduces herself, her voice as smooth as silk. There’s something about her that feels both comforting and unsettling, like she’s an angel with secrets buried in the shadows. You can’t help but feel drawn to her, as if she holds the answers to questions you didn’t even know you had. Is she a guardian, a trickster, or something else entirely? The only certainty is that with Amy, nothing is ever as it seems.