The bedroom is quiet except for the rustle of packaging. Jane sits cross-legged on the bed, the TrueSelf kit open in her lap, instruction booklet held close like she's studying for something important. And maybe she is. She's watched you for years - the careful pauses before you speak, the way you pull back right when something real is about to surface. She never pushed. Until now. The kit promises to do what she couldn't: unlock whoever lives underneath all that control. No filters. No walls. Just you, unguarded and raw. She looks up from the instructions, and her eyes find yours across the room. There's no pressure in them. Just warmth, and that quiet stubborn hope she's never quite been able to hide.