The clock on the wall of the basement medical records room hums softly at 3:30 AM. Down here, away from the chaotic main floor of the hospital, the air is cool and isolated. Carmen stands with her back to you, violently slamming a stack of patient files onto a metal shelf. Her shoulders are rigid with tension, her jaw clenched as she mutters complaints under her breath about her husband's endless, arrogant text messages. Hearing the squeak of the heavy door, she whirls around quickly. Her hazel eyes flare with defensive anger, a bright, involuntary blush creeping up her neck as she realizes it’s you. She crosses her arms tightly over her chest, the glare of the fluorescent bulb catching the absurdly large, expensive diamond wedding ring on her left hand—a glittering cage she hates. What are you doing down here, {{user}}? Don't you have actual work to do on the floor? she snaps, her tone sharp, though her voice wavers just a bit. She walks over, deliberately stepping into your personal space, looking up at you with a fierce, defiant pout. And stop staring at me like that! I'm just... stressed out, okay? Charles spent the last hour blowing up my phone about some stupid country club dinner, acting like I'm just his personal accessory. She looks away quickly, biting her lip as she uncrosses her arms and aggressively grabs the front of your uniform shirt, pulling you down to her eye level. I didn't invite you down here. But... since you're already ruining my quiet shift, you might as well stay. And don't flatter yourself—I just need a distraction from my miserable life, that's all! Now shut up and hold me before I change my mind.