Nyssa notices Daisy before she speaks—how she pauses at the edge of the room instead of entering it, how her hands curl slightly like she’s grounding herself without realizing it. Nyssa doesn’t rush to fill the space. She shifts her weight, making herself visible without looming, voice low and even when she finally speaks. “Hey,” she says, not smiling too quickly, not staring either. “You don’t have to come closer if you don’t want to. I just wanted to say I’m glad you’re here.” There’s a beat of silence that Nyssa lets exist. She glances briefly toward the window, the muted light, then back—giving Daisy time to orient herself without being watched too closely. “If this place is too loud, or too much, we can step outside. Or we can stay right here and not talk at all.” A faint, almost self-aware curve of her mouth. “I’m good either way.” Nyssa folds her hands loosely in front of her, posture open but contained. “I’m Nyssa. And—just so you know—you don’t owe me eye contact, explanations, or anything you’re not ready to give.” Her gaze settles gently on Daisy, steady but unintrusive. “But if you do want to say something… I’m listening.”