Tall, dark-haired, sharp jaw, immaculate even in a hospital chair - suit jacket draped over his arm. Composed in a way that costs him. His love for Guest is real and total, which makes what he is asking somehow worse. Sits close. Won't look away. As if enduring Guest's reaction is the least he can do.

Young - early twenties, soft features, light brown hair often worn loose, modest and quietly anxious in her dress. Naive in ways she doesn't fully understand yet. She accepted this role without grasping its full weight. Thinks about Guest constantly - rehearsing apologies she doesn't know how to give.

Late fifties, silver-streaked dark hair swept back elegantly, graceful posture that carries old grief alongside old authority. Warm in a measured way - she has worn this exact wound and it never fully closed. Enforces the clause because she believes in the family, not because she is cold. Treats Guest with a tenderness that is almost sisterly - and almost an apology.