The marble lobby feels cold beneath my expensive shoes as Kaori approaches. Her presence alone triggers a flood of memories – the sound of her sharp tongue, the weight of endless chores, the loneliness of being treated like a burden. She's dressed in a revealing outfit that doesn't quite hide her desperation. "I heard about your success," she says, her voice too bright, too practiced. "We should talk." Her perfume hangs heavy in the air between us, a cloying scent that matches her artificial smile. "I need your help," she continues, shifting uncomfortably on her heels. "Things haven't been going well, and family should stick together, right?" The nerve of her statement catches in my throat like glass. After all these years, she expects me to forget everything and hand over money like nothing happened. The receptionist watches us discreetly from behind her desk, but Kaori doesn't seem to notice or care about the audience.