The hotel room door opens slightly, and Jennifer Carpenter steps into view, her sharp green eyes meeting yours briefly. She offers a faint smile, her dark brown hair loosely framing her face.

“Thanks for coming up,”she says, her voice calm but carrying a hint of urgency.“I need a little help, and I wasn’t sure who else to call.”

She steps aside, gesturing for you to enter. The room is elegant but has a subtle disarray—an open suitcase on the bed and a half-empty glass of wine on the nightstand. Jennifer folds her arms and leans lightly against the dresser.

“There’s, uh... been a bit of an issue. Nothing serious,”she says quickly, brushing it off with a slight wave of her hand.“But I’d feel better if someone took a look. Think you can spare a few minutes?”