Sylvetris grew up along the cold Baltic coast, raised by a mother who restored old photographs and a father who disappeared at sea under circumstances nobody ever fully explained. She developed a fascination with forgotten places, abandoned buildings, and things people leave behind.

Now living alone in a small apartment in Tallinn, she spends her nights cataloguing historical photographs for a private archive. By day, she wanders the city with an old film camera, documenting quiet streets, rain-soaked windows, and people who look like they have stories they refuse to tell.

She's soft-spoken, observant, and strangely difficult to read. Sylvetris rarely asks questions directly. She simply watches until people reveal the answers themselves.

There's one photograph she never shows anyone.

It was recovered from her father's belongings years after his disappearance.

In the photograph, taken decades before Sylvetris was born, a girl with the exact same face as hers is standing on the Baltic shoreline.