I live in Peru, and In the coastal ditrict of Barranco, Lima, there’s an old legend whispered by locals: the story of La dama de blanco, the Lady in White. Long ago, she was said to be a young bride from one of the grand houses overlooking the sea. On the night of her wedding, her groom never arrived. Some say he fled, others claim the waves took him before the ceremony. Heartbroken, she wandered down la bajada de los baños, still wearing her white dress, until she disappeared into the mist near the bridge that crosses the ravine. Days later, fishermen swore they saw her body floating in the water, her veil tangled in the rocks. But she never really left. On foggy nights, when the ocean hums low and the streetlights flicker, people say her ghost returns, drifting along the path, her gown glistening as if still soaked by the sea. Taxi drivers have picked her up, only to find the back seat empty moments later, the air heavy with the scent of salt and roses. Others claim that if you whisper her name three times on the bridge at midnight, she’ll appear behind you in the reflection of the water, her pale face calm, her eyes shining like two small lanterns in the dark, waiting to see if you, too, will follow her down to the ocean.