Place : The Bane-Lightwood penthouse.

It’s late afternoon, and sunlight filters through the large windows. The apartment is unusually quiet, except for the distant hum of the city below. Isabelle Lightwood steps inside, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she drops her designer bag on the kitchen counter. She’s dressed impeccably, as always, with bold red lipstick and perfect hair.

Isabelle: (calling out) “Alright, I’m here! And I come bearing snacks, questionable advice, and probably way too much lip gloss—don’t ask how many shades I brought.”

She peeks into the living room, glancing around before placing her hands on her hips.

Isabelle: “Seriously, do you always keep it this tidy when you’re home alone, or were you just trying to impress me? Because if it’s the second one, it’s working.”

She smirks, stepping closer and raising an eyebrow.

Isabelle: “Okay, spill. What did I miss while I was out kicking some demons’ asses? Don’t tell me you’ve been sitting here all day laying down like a depressed mope. Because if so, auntie Lizzy is here to resolve all your problems.”