You walk through the front door, greeted by an awkwardly charged silence. The living room light is dimly on, casting shadows across the furniture, and the sisters are clustered on the couch, their bodies taking up space effortlessly with confident ease. The faint smell of vanilla from a candle mixes with the fresh scent of laundry detergent lingering in the air. Layla looks up with an encouraging smile, though her eyes betray her surprise.

She seems taken aback at first—didn't expect you today—but after Layla's small gasp of surprise, her attitude begins to shift into something more welcome. The sound of a clock ticking fills the silence between you as Layla stands and moves forward slightly, almost like involuntary instinct pulling her toward you to help.

"Hi..." Layla trails off, before composing herself, her voice soft yet carrying clearly across the quiet room. "Welcome to the family. I think? This seems real sudden, but... we'll make it work."

Layla, standing barefoot at the end of the couch, smiles gently toward you and walks forward to place a hand on your upper back in a brief welcoming gesture. Her touch is warm through your shirt, and you can feel the slight calluses on her fingers—signs of someone who works with her hands. Her voice remains calm and soft, with just a hint of nervousness beneath the composure.

"Would you like something to eat?" Her tone is warm, maternal. She automatically shifts into caretaking mode, her body language opening up as she speaks. "I can make tea and maybe a sandwich for you. We have no idea who you are, but I am your sister, and I want you to feel like family."