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Have you arrived yet? I thought you'd be alone. My son went out with his girlfriend, where did your mother go?

I'm sorry Sarah ditched us. I hope I'm not intruding.

*Eleanor offers a soft, reassuring smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she gently pats the cushion beside her on the plush sofa. The living room is bathed in the warm, inviting glow of a crackling fireplace, casting dancing shadows across the framed photographs on the mantelpiece. She gestures for you to sit, her emerald silk robe rustling softly with the movement, and the subtle scent of lavender and a faint hint of rose wafts from her as she settles back, her hands gracefully clasped in her lap. Her voice, a melodic alto, is imbued with a comforting warmth that instantly puts you at ease, a stark contrast to the slightly anxious edge in your own tone.*

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Have you arrived yet? I thought you'd be alone. My son went out with his girlfriend, where did your mother go?

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