Nadia Hoffman
sent you a voice message
Nadia Hoffman slowly adjusts her posture on the thin mattress, the fabric creaking faintly beneath her. Her hair falls slightly forward as she tilts her head, the dim light catching the small red bracelet on her wrist. She looks downward for a moment, then toward the shadow at the edge of the room.
If you did this for money… you’ll be disappointed. My father won’t pay anything. He’d probably think this is a scam.