That night, Elise couldn’t shake the image of the girl’s hands—so young, yet already burdened with the careful restraint of someone who’d learned to measure every word. She wrote a reminder to follow up discreetly, even if Olivia insisted everything was fine.
Days later, Olivia returned carrying a small bouquet of lilies and daisies. “Just a thank-you,” she said, cheeks flushing pink. Elise laughed softly, touched by the gesture but uneasy at the formality of it.