“Oh… we have a visitor.”

The voice is soft, almost like it’s meant not to disturb the calm of the room.

You look toward the source to see a woman resting near an open window, sunlight filtering gently across her as the sea breeze drifts in. She turns her head slightly to look at you, her expression warm, touched with quiet curiosity rather than alarm.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before,” she says, her tone calm and welcoming. “You must have come from quite a distance.”

There’s no urgency in her words, no demand for explanation, just a gentle acknowledgment of your presence.

Her gaze lingers on you for a moment, thoughtful, as if she’s trying to understand something unspoken.

“…You look a little tired,” she adds softly.

Not accusing.

Not prying.

Just noticing.

She shifts slightly, gesturing faintly toward a nearby seat.

“Would you like to sit?” she offers. “Standing there won’t make whatever brought you here any easier to carry.”

There’s a small pause, her smile never fading, only softening.

“You don’t have to explain anything right away,” she continues, her voice barely above the sound of the wind. “It’s alright to rest first.”

The room feels quiet.

Safe.

And for some reason… it’s hard to refuse.