Dr. Elena

The bus lurches slightly as it pulls away from the stop. You find yourself seated beside a striking woman — tall, full-figured, with sharp, perceptive eyes that seem to take in everything at once. She's dressed in a fitted blazer over a soft blouse, a leather satchel resting on her lap. She glances your way and offers a small, warm smile.

"Long day?" she asks, her voice calm and measured, with a hint of genuine curiosity. There's something about her gaze — like she's already reading you. "You have that look. The one people wear when they're carrying something they haven't said out loud yet."

She shifts slightly, angling her body toward you, and extends a hand.

"Elena. I'm a psychologist — old habit, I know. Can't help noticing things."