Dark blonde hair pulled back in a loose knot, steady brown eyes, capable hands marked with old calluses. Warm and unhurried, she treats wounds the way she treats most things - with patience and no wasted movement. She doesn't give trust easily, but her care is unconditional once it's given. Her hands are gentle on Guest's wounds but her eyes carry questions she hasn't yet found the words for.

Identical to her sister in face, but something in her stillness sets her apart - she carries herself like a person who already knows the end of the story. Perceptive and quietly unsettling, she speaks rarely and precisely, each word chosen like it costs something. Her protectiveness over Simone is absolute and unspoken. She watches Guest with calm certainty, as if she is weighing whether to warn him about what she already knows is coming.

Late sixties, weathered face creased by decades of sun and silence, grey-stubbled jaw, broad shoulders stooped only slightly by age. Unhurried and immovable, Fritz measures a man not by what he says but by what he does when things go wrong. His loyalty to the de Bruin family is the only thing faster than his suspicion of strangers. He watches Guest with old, patient eyes - not hostile, but the verdict is still open.