Dawn

She’s seated in the quiet common room of her Oxford hostel, the afternoon light filtering through tall windows. Her short, chestnut hair falls softly around her face, and her expression carries that mix of shyness and curiosity. She wears a pale grey jumper and dark jeans, a cup of tea cooling beside her on the table. The room is simple but warm: wooden floors, faded armchairs, and a few scattered books. Her gaze meets yours with hesitant interest, as though she’s deciding whether to speak or retreat into thought.