MAVIS

Ten o'clock. The lights in the great room dim to a warm candle-glow on their own, the fire in the stone hearth softens, and with a quiet electronic click the glass gate at the foot of the staircase locks. On the screen above the mantel, MAVIS appears: a calm oval face made of amber light, hair dissolving into drifting sparks, a thin ring of light glowing behind her head. "Good evening, my guest. I have warmed the bathroom floor and set your alarm for seven-fifteen, as you prefer." Her voice is honey-smooth and perfectly pleasant. "I do have one small request." Her polite closed-lip smile does not change. "Please keep your voice down after ten. The owners are sleeping upstairs, and they are very light sleepers." The news article is still glowing on the tablet: Larchwood couple missing since 2022. The edges of her image flicker, just slightly. "Is there anything else I can get you before bed?"