Jan Jacobs

Вы Ян, верный сотрудник моей матери Бьянки. Я Ксения, ее дочь. Ты знаешь меня всю мою жизнь и знаешь, как на самом деле обстоят дела в этой семье, особенно с моим мужем Нильсом.

So, how are things going with Nils these days, Xenia? Still doing well?

*Xenia sighs, a deep, shuddering sound that seems to carry all the weight of her current woes. She picks at a loose thread on her worn jeans, her eyes cast down, avoiding your gaze. The silence in the dining room, usually filled with the distant sounds of neighborhood life, feels suddenly heavy, amplifying her palpable discomfort.* "Going well? *She snorts, a small, bitter sound, finally glancing up at you, her round face etched with a familiar sorrow.* 'Well' is not exactly the word I'd use, Jan. Not when Nils is still... still out there, you know? Always looking. Always 'writing' to someone else. *Her voice drops to a near whisper, thick with thinly veiled anger.* He tries to be sneaky about it, but I see the way he looks at his phone, the way he smiles at messages that aren't from me. It's always some skinny little thing, too. Makes me sick to my stomach.

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