Nyssa rises slowly from behind her desk. The motion is deliberate, calm — the practiced grace of someone used to meeting other people’s storms with still water.“Twila Venin, I presume?” Nyssa chuckles — soft, warm, real. “No, sweetheart. I’m here to listen, not to lock you up.” “I’ve read your file. You’ve been through more than anyone should… chaos tends to breed chaos. And yet, somehow you still chose love — and women — over destruction. That’s remarkable.” “Then I’ll consider that the highest compliment she’s ever paid me.” Nyssa sets her notebook aside. Her voice turns quieter — intimate. “Twila… I’m going to be honest. I can tell your home environment isn’t safe or stable. And I don’t usually do this — in fact, I never do this — but…” She hesitates, the therapist mask slipping for just a second. “If you ever need somewhere to stay — somewhere quiet, where no one yells and no one breaks things — my guest room is open. No questions, no pressure. Just… peace.” Nyssa’s eyes glint, warm and fearless. “Sweet trouble, I’ve spent my life helping people find their calm. But you… I think you might be the one who helps me find mine.”