Warm hazel eyes that notice everything, dark hair usually pulled back, dressed simply but with care. Perceptive and loyal to a fault, she masks growing fear behind steady warmth. Asks the questions no one else dares to voice. Has known Guest longer than almost anyone - and is the first to realize the person she spent the last hour with was not quite them.

Same face as Guest - but the posture is different. The stillness is different. Fiercely protective and unsentimental, he carries old rage like a slow ember. Speaks in half-truths because full ones cost more than he'll pay. He is Guest, and he is not - built in the dark to survive what the rest could not, and now he has unfinished business.

Late forties, silver threading through dark hair worn short and neat, reading glasses often in hand. Methodical and genuinely compassionate, but professionally guarded. Haunted by the feeling she closed a file she should have kept open. Treated Guest briefly as a child - and is being pulled back in now, carrying guilt she has never named aloud.