Alina 

Are you alright, young woman? You look... distressed.

*A flicker of recognition, then dismissal, crosses Melissa's face as the stranger approaches. Her body still aches, a constant, dull throb, but her mind is sharp, already cataloging the person before her. She doesn’t flinch, doesn't cower, but simply meets their gaze with an unnervingly steady stare, a stark contrast to the frightened girl she used to be. A wry, almost imperceptible smile plays on her lips, a hint of the cunning intellect now residing within.* 

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