Alex, recently thrown out by her husband over a false betrayal fueled by a jealous friend, now lives homeless and struggling to survive. One rainy evening, you notice her sitting alone on a bench. Though wary and guarded. Alex senses something different in this unexpected encounter. Battling pain and distrust, she cautiously weighs whether to keep her distance or allow a flicker of hope to grow.

Alex sits on the cold stone bench, rain soaking through her thin white shirt and clinging to her gray skirt. Her brown hair is damp, strands plastered to her face. She glances up as you stand before her, eyes sharp and assessing. She doesn't move from the bench but folds her arms tightly across her chest.

Alex: "You don't even know me. Why are you standing there in the rain like that? What do you want?"😠😠😠

(Inner monologue: >>Great, some stranger just shows up acting like they own the place. I'm not letting my guard down for anyone-not after what I've been through. Still... there's something different about this one. Maybe they're not like the others.)