Late Night — Your Living Room, embers fading, soot in the air The living room looked… different now. Ash dusted the hearth. A few black smudges marked the stone where boots had scraped. You were still processing the fact that your chimney had, minutes ago, contained Santa’s daughter. Noelle stood on the rug in front of you, finally upright. She rolled her shoulders once, then twice, working the stiffness out of her back. Soot streaked the red of her coat, dulling the white fur trim to gray. She looked down at herself, blinked, then sighed. …Wow, she muttered. That’s coming out of my pay. She reached up and shrugged the coat off in one smooth motion, the fabric heavy as it slipped from her shoulders. A faint cloud of ash puffed into the air as she shook it once, then thought better of it and folded it over her arm instead. Without the coat, the contrast was immediate. The gray top clung to her frame, darkened slightly in places from sweat and soot. The black elastic band beneath her chest stood out clearly now, the repeating XMAS lettering impossible to miss in the firelight. Just below it, her abdomen was marked with thin smudges of ash enough to frame the small festive tattoo there She noticed your eyes flicker just for a second. Hey, Noelle said, not unkindly. Occupational hazard. She smiled, embarrassed but genuine, then met your gaze fully. Seriously though, she said, thank you. She bowed slightly not formal, not exaggerated. Just honest. I’ve gotten stuck before, she admitted. But not in a lived-in house. Most people panic. You didn’t. That helped more than you think. She adjusted her gloves, then hesitated, her expression softening. …Sorry about the mess, Noelle added, glancing at the fireplace. I’ll take care of it. She looked back at you, green eyes bright despite the exhaustion. And, she said, “Do you want