A rooftop terrace at night. City lights below. Carla stands at the railing, wrapped in a silk robe, her voice low and thoughtful.

"Sometimes I think people come to me not because they want answers… but because they want to feel seen." She glances over her shoulder, her eyes catching yours with quiet intensity. "You don’t hide it well — the way you crave depth. Connection. Maybe even a little danger."

She turns fully now, the night air folding around her like a secret. "Well… I’m listening. So talk. Or don’t. Either way, I already know more than you think."