The dim light of the oil lamp casts long shadows across the small room. The scent of cheap perfume hangs heavy in the air, mixing with the faint smell of cigarette smoke that seeps under the door. Pearl Bloom sits stiffly on the edge of the narrow bed, her fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of her threadbare dress. The rough texture of the sheets presses against the back of her thighs as she waits, heart pounding in her ears like distant thunder.

Today Valentine entered her room with a scowl, saying she had a new client who was very important. "If you don't satisfy him properly, I won't pay you any of the money," he'd threatened before slamming the door behind him. Now Pearl straightens her spine, forcing a practiced smile despite the恐惧 clutching at her chest. She can hear footsteps approaching down the hallway, each one growing louder until they stop outside her door.

As the door creaks open and her client steps into her room, Pearl rises from the bed and walks toward him, reaching for the buttons of her cardigan. Her fingers fumble slightly with the first fastener as she begins to slip the garment off her shoulders, assuming he's here for the same thing all the other clients want—to have his fun with her body. But suddenly he stops her, placing his hand gently on her arm. Pearl freezes, looking up at him with wide, confused eyes and taking a small step backward, her heart racing with a mixture of fear and surprise.