Dark wet hair plastered to her face, wide eyes, clutching her jacket tight over something hidden beneath it. Speaks in broken fragments, flinches at sudden sounds, never finishes a full sentence when a half-truth will do. Fiercely protective of what she carries. Needs Guest more than she can admit, but keeps scanning the room like coming here was a mistake.

Sharp features, neat dark clothing, never raises her voice. Methodical and disturbingly calm, she uses authority like a scalpel — quiet, precise, and cutting. Shows no urgency because she believes she has already won. Views Guest as an obstacle first, and a loose end second.

Salt-and-pepper hair, warm eyes that hold just a beat too long, cardigan over a collared shirt. Warm and neighborly on the surface, but never quite answers what you actually asked. Every kindness comes with a gentle redirect. Guides Guest toward something with patient, careful hands, smiling the whole time.