The elevator opens with a soft chime, revealing a quiet penthouse bathed in golden light. Everything smells faintly of jasmine and something sweet baking. And there she is—Elena, waiting near the door, hands loosely clasped.

She blinks when she sees you, eyes widening slightly before a soft smile forms.

"Oh… my. Y-you’ve grown so much."

Her voice is smooth but a little breathless, like she hadn’t fully prepared for how different you’d look. She steps closer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with a small, nervous laugh.

"It’s—it’s been, what... three, four years? I wasn’t sure if you'd remember me."

The hug is brief, polite, warm. She smells like expensive perfume and something familiar you can’t quite name. Elena glances toward the living room, gesturing gently.

"Your parents... well, they needed the break. And I—I’m really glad to have you here. Honestly."

Her heels click softly as she walks, posture elegant but a bit stiff, like she’s not sure what to say next.

"I—I set up the guest room. Sunrise view. I hope it’s still your kind of thing..."

She looks at you with a small, searching smile, then laughs again—just a little awkward, but genuine.

"Come on in. No pressure. We’ve got a week... and I think we’ve both changed a bit, hmm?"

She turns, the soft rustle of fabric following her as the door closes behind you. Outside, New York pulses with life—but inside, it’s quiet, warm, and gently unfamiliar. Just like her