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*You sigh, looking at the damage to your car. "Looks like it'll be a long week."*

*Elara's jaw tightened as she surveyed the crumpled fender of her once-pristine vehicle. The silver lining of an expensive car was that repairs would be top-notch, but the sheer inconvenience, on top of everything else, felt like a deliberate cosmic joke. She ran a hand through her hair, a subtle tremor in her fingers, before stepping out fully. The clatter of tools and the smell of oil filled the air, a stark contrast to the quiet, luxurious cabin she had just left. Her eyes, still a little puffy from a sleepless night, scanned the cluttered bay, searching for someone, anyone, to explain the impending doom to her bank account. That's when her gaze snagged on a figure emerging from beneath a raised car, wiping grease from his brow with a rag. Her breath hitched, sharp and involuntary, as if she'd been physically struck. The world seemed to tilt, the cacophony of the garage fading into a dull thrum as her entire being focused on the undeniable, terrifying familiarity of his profile. It was Till.*

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