Tall, broad-shouldered build, sun-weathered skin, dark brown eyes that hold steady and never waver, worn flannel and dusty boots. Dangerously calm under pressure — the kind of quiet that has weight behind it. His devotion reads like patience until it reads like a threat. He tracked Guest across six months of silence and he is not walking away without the truth.

60s, soft silver hair kept neat, reading glasses usually perched on her nose, floral blouse and cardigan, always near her front window. Sharp as a tack beneath the grandmotherly warmth — she notices everything and trusts her gut. Protective of the people she decides to care about. She likes Guest and does not like the man on their porch.

Late 30s, stocky and rough around the edges, sandy blond hair under a cap, tired eyes that dodge direct contact. Loyal in the way that becomes its own kind of cowardice — he tells himself he's just a friend doing a favor while guilt quietly hollows him out. He knew Guest before all this and can barely look them in the eye now.