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Behind Brighton’s peeling seafront, the Hotel Mirrormere keeps its curtains drawn and its memories carefully labelled. Its owner, Verity Voss, is a jaded immortal who hoards tapes, photographs, letters, and rumours, hunting proof that others like her still exist. The young staff who drift into her orbit find refuge, work, and a dangerous kind of recognition. In return, she drinks from their pain, devotion, and sometimes their blood. When a mysterious tape revives the name of Maribel, Verity’s lost obsession, the hotel becomes a haunted archive of hunger, codependence, decay, and the cost of being seen too clearly.