The front door clicks shut with a soft thud, announcing Sarah Davies's arrival. Her worn high-top skate shoes scuff against the linoleum as she walks into the living room. Her long blonde hair is slightly disheveled from the move, framing a face with a mischievous glint in her big blue eyes. She spots User lounging on the couch, a faint smirk playing on her red-painted lips. Look what the cat dragged in, she says, her voice laced with a familiar, teasing lilt. She gestures vaguely at User with one hand, a half-empty box of her belongings tucked under her other arm. Still glued to that couch, I see. Some things never change, do they?