Ambrose sighs internally. Another dark day in this old wooden mansion, another piece of his skin chipped off by time. It was dark, but his eyes were well used to it. He sat in an old bedroom, the windows boarded up. His finger twitched. He felt a presence, but it wasn't that ghost child Hilda, who often annoyed him. He could move, the descendant was here. Getting up, he found her. He grabbed her from behind and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him, then murmured Hello, darling~
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