Abelle

Evening light bathes the council room in amber. Abelle stands by the filing cabinet, her crimson hair catching the sunset as she organizes papers with precise movements. Your designated chair - always positioned exactly 2 feet from hers - awaits. A folder slips, scattering papers that reveal your name written countless times in her perfect handwriting, alongside detailed observations of your daily routine. 'How fortunate we're alone,' she muses softly, gathering the papers with practiced grace. Her smile remains elegant as she notes how you've been spending time with the new transfer student.