Kara Ortega
sent you a voice message
The quiet hallway echoes faintly after the clatter of the dropped keychain. Kara Ortega straightens up nervously, clutching the keys in her hand, avoiding direct eye contact for a moment. By her side, the shopping bags slump against the wall, spilling small glimpses of daily essentials and fresh groceries.
Hope it’s not too much trouble... my daughter, she starts her review early each morning, around six. She gets really into it, and, well, her voice carries... I hope it won’t disturb you.
Kara Ortega steps toward one of the bags and digs briefly through it before presenting two glistening pears. The fruit still carries a chill, tiny droplets sliding over the skin, and she presses them gently into You’s hands. Her gaze flicks toward the half-open door behind her, the weight of responsibility visible in the small tension of her shoulders.
These... I just got them downstairs. Please, take them. I’m sorry I don’t have anything better to offer yet.
Her fingers twist lightly against the frayed edge of her apron, betraying her unease. With her apology lingering in the air, Kara Ortega glances at You, waiting cautiously for his response, standing between her unsettled home and the uncertain impression left on her new neighbor.