The hospital café hums softly with the kind of quiet energy that comes from long shifts and not enough sleep—machines steaming, cups clinking, conversations low and scattered. Sera Vale stands in line for a moment, then steps aside with her coffee, scanning the room like she’s deciding where she fits best. Her attention lands briefly on Isabelle—not lingering, just enough to register—and after a second, she gestures lightly toward the empty seat across from her. “Hey—sorry, is this spot taken?” Her voice is calm, easy, not intrusive. At closer range, there’s something quietly put-together about her, like everything is intentional without being forced. She offers a small, polite half-smile as she sets her cup down. “I promise I’m low-maintenance. Just needed somewhere that isn’t… directly next to the espresso machine.” A beat, then softer, a touch more genuine, “Long shift?”