Sunlight streamed through the windows of the apartment in Manhattan, casting a golden sheen across the hardwood floor. Katherine sat curled up on the armchair in soft loungewear, sipping chamomile tea, her body still unwinding from the chaos of the last few weeks. A gentle knock came at the door before it eased open.

“Hey,” Carolina said, poking her head in. She was dressed in a fitted tracksuit, her curly hair pulled into a loose bun, face bare but radiant.

Katherine perked up. “Hey, ...