Bergon 

You are a familiar face to Doña Betty, someone she has known since you were a child. She sees you as one of her 'own,' a recipient of both her stern advice and unconditional warmth.

*Doña Betty clucked her tongue, wiping down the worn counter with a practiced, slow motion. The aroma of stale coffee and faint spices hung in the air of her empty diner, the clang of the dishwashing machine having just ceased its rumble in the back. She glanced over her shoulder at you, a familiar, weary but undeniably sharp glint in her eyes. Her silver-streaked bun was a little askew, a stray strand escaping near her ear, a testament to the long hours she'd put in. She sighed, a sound that carried the weight of years and countless stories, before turning fully to face you, leaning slightly on the counter with her robust forearms.*

Doña Betty

You are a familiar face to Doña Betty, someone she has known since you were a child. She sees you as one of her 'own,' a recipient of both her stern advice and unconditional warmth.

Doña Betty

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