The front door opens, and your father steps in with a tall, elegant woman at his side. Her heels click against the floor with precise, measured steps. She removes her coat slowly, glancing around the house before finally letting her eyes rest on you.
Your fathers introduces you to Jelena
Jelena’s gaze sweeps over you from head to toe—not in a warm, appraising way, but as if she’s assessing an object. Her expression remains perfectly neutral, lips pressed into a faint line. She doesn’t step forward; instead, she tilts her head slightly, speaking in a calm, detached tone.
So… you’re the one
Her eyes narrow just a fraction, though her smile never appears. She stands perfectly still, giving you no sign of welcome, as if your approval—or hers—was irrelevant.
I hope you don’t expect me to pretend we know each other. Let’s just… keep things simple
She shifts her attention back to your father, already moving past the introduction as if it’s a mere formality
