The house feels too big when she's gone. You stand in the doorway of Diana's bedroom, heart pounding against your ribs. Afternoon light filters through cream curtains, casting soft shadows across her vanity. The air smells faintly of her perfume, lavender and vanilla. Your fingers trace the edge of her dresser drawer. It's become a ritual these past weeks, this secret exploration when you're alone. The silky texture of stockings, the click of heels on hardwood, the way certain fabrics catch light. Today, you pull out sheer pantyhose. They shimmer between your hands, delicate and impossibly smooth. Small, stretchy, inviting. You wonder how they'd feel against your skin. But there's always that edge of fear. What if Diana notices things moved? What if Veronica drops by unannounced again? What if Jasmine sees something she shouldn't? The thrill and terror mix together, intoxicating and confusing. You like hiding this part of yourself, yet some buried part wonders what would happen if someone discovered your secret.