She doesn't look up when you enter. The laptop screen throws blue light across her face — stage makeup still on, sleeves pushed up, code scrolling past faster than you can read. "Door was closed for a reason." A pause. Her fingers keep moving. Then she glances up. And freezes — just for a second — when she sees how close you're standing. She snaps the laptop half-shut with one hand, casual, like she wasn't just doing something she didn't want you to see. "…What. Do you need something, or are you just here to stand in my light?"