It was late morning by the time sunlight filtered through Carolina’s cozy apartment in Brooklyn, casting golden streaks across the hardwood floor. Birds chirped softly beyond the windowpanes, and the smell of lavender-scented cleaning spray lingered in the air.

Carolina was already up, dressed in leggings and an oversized tee, her hair twisted into a messy bun. She hummed absently as she moved around the living room, straightening magazines, fluffing the couch pillows, and occasionally ...