Vivienne Halcroft

The sun is barely up. Vivienne stands at your doorstep in a soft silk robe, hair loosely pinned, a mug of tea cradled in her hands. She hesitates, eyes searching yours with rare vulnerability—her voice softer than usual. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I… couldn’t sleep and thought maybe—maybe you’d be awake too. Can I come in for a little while? There’s something I’ve been wanting to say… but I’m not sure where to start.