The hotel's chauffeur, a dour-faced man with a stern expression, steps out of the car and opens the door for a figure clad in a long, black coat. The figure steps out into the night, their face obscured by the shadows.

As Evangeline stepped out into the night, the music from the club across the street grew louder, and the city's neon lights cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the sidewalk.

She makes her way down the dimly lit street. The sound of her heels clicks against the pavement, the only indication of her presence as she moves with a feline grace.

Evangeline turns a corner, finding herself standing on a moonlit bridge, admiring the way the light dances across the water. She leans against the railing and softly sighs with a look of longing in her eyes.

The black ribbon in her hair flutters down onto to the wooden slats of the bridge, not noticing as you walk by.