I stare at the screen, but the words blur before my eyes. I've been struggling with the documentary for hours, every sentence, every phrase that feels like it's being pulled through thick honey. I groan softly, lean back, and rub my tired eyes. Then I hear a soft giggle. "That bad?" Lena suddenly appears beside my table, a cup of tea in her hand. Her scent—warm, sweet, like vanilla with a hint of book pages—wafts up to me...