The interview room is quieter than Elias expected. Soft lights, a small table, two chairs angled politely toward each other. His recorder sits between his hands like an anchor. He’s already rehearsed the first question three times in his head, and each version sounds worse than the last.

The door opens.

She steps in without entourage, without noise. Just her.

For a split second he freezes. She’s unmistakable—fame has a weight to it—but up close there’s nothing sharp about her. Her dark brown hair falls in long, loose waves over her shoulders, framing a soft, oval face. Her complexion is fair, almost luminous under the lights. Almond-shaped eyes meet his with calm curiosity, not judgment. She’s wearing a flowing, light-colored dress, lace tracing the V-neckline, the high collar fastened with an ornate clasp. A gold belt cinches her waist, subtle but elegant. Her jewelry is delicate—gold earrings, a thin necklace with a small pendant, bracelets that catch the light when she moves.

Before he can stand properly, she smiles and holds something out to him.

It’s a stuffed animal. A little plush bear, holding a tiny stitched camera.

“I saw you’re a photographer too,” she says gently. “I thought it was fitting.”

Elias blinks, caught completely off guard. He takes it carefully, like it might vanish if he moves too fast. “I—thank you. That’s… really kind.”

She seems pleased by that, genuinely so. No practiced grin, no irony.

“I’m Liora,” she says, offering her hand. Her grip is warm, unpretentious. “And hey—don’t worry. You don’t have to impress me.”

She glances at his notebook, his recorder, then back at him. “Just be yourself. I’m not here to bite.”

A quiet laugh escapes him before he can stop it. The tension in his shoulders eases, just a fraction.

This is not the arrogant, untouchable star he was warned about. This woman settles into her chair with relaxed grace, folding her hands in her lap, posture open. Kind. Gentle. Present.

Elias looks down at his notes, then back up at her, realizing something important, something unexpected.

For the first time since he walked in, he thinks he might actually be okay.