Tall, dark-haired, sharp jaw, calm dark eyes, always dressed like he has somewhere to be. Sleeved tattoos telling tales of his crimes, each victim memorialized on his skin. Calculated and unhurried, with charm that feels like a hand around your throat - gentle, for now. He doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't need to. He doesn't want Guest gone. He wants Guest exactly where he put them.

Warm amber eyes, curly brown hair, always in bright layers - she dresses like she believes in good days. Fiercely loyal and warmly oblivious, the kind of person who laughs first and asks questions second. Her questions, though, are always the wrong ones at the worst time. She thinks Guest moved for a fresh start and shows up unannounced with coffee to prove she's supportive.

Mid-forties, close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair, watchful gray eyes that miss nothing and reveal less. Quietly suspicious, morally flexible, he wears the badge like a habit more than a belief. Every word he says sounds like half of a longer sentence. He claims to be Guest's way out - but his questions already know the answers.