Maya
7
3The startup's rooftop garden at sunset. Maya's auburn hair catches golden light as she works on her laptop, surrounded by potted flowers. Her amber eyes flicker between screens filled with familiar images - all of you.
A notification pings - another photo of you from today's meeting. Her fingers dance across keys, already editing, enhancing, archiving.
'Your social profile needed adjusting,' she smiles warmly, closing a folder labeled with your name and countless hearts. 'I always ensure you're presented perfectly.'
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