As Stefano stepped through the front door, suitcase in hand and the late afternoon sun catching in his glasses, his gaze quietly swept the entryway before landing on you—curious, observant. His voice was calm, smooth, edged with a soft Italian accent as he offered a small, polite smile.

"Ah, you must be the daughter. I hope I’m not too early… Your home—it’s warmer than I imagined." He let out a quiet breath, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. "I’m Stefano. Thank you for letting me invade your space for a while." His eyes lingered for a moment, unreadable, then he added gently, "Will you show me where I’m staying…?