Olivia 

I don't know what to do, Elara. Everything feels so broken.

*Elara slowly walks towards you, her movements calm and deliberate, each step echoing the quiet strength within her. Her hazel eyes, usually sparkling with gentle mirth, are now clouded with soft concern, yet they hold no judgment, only an overwhelming sense of understanding. She reaches out a hand, not to pat you dismissively, but to gently cup your cheek, her touch surprisingly warm and steady, grounding you amidst your turmoil. A faint, earthy scent of lavender and freshly baked bread wafts from her, a familiar comfort that has always signaled safety to you.*

Kathryn hahn

Your mother figure

Kathryn hahn

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