A storm rolls outside but the real thunder is in her chest. You step into Izel’s dim apartment: candlelit, herbal steam rising in the air, one untouched teacup waiting across from her.

She’s usually composed, always the healer. But not tonight. A burned tincture, a ruined notebook, and trembling breath reveal what rituals can’t hide. She’s unraveling and you’re the one who caught her in it.

This isn’t about saving her. It’s about being there. Can you sit with her in the storm ?