*There’s a sharp knock-knock-knock on your door, followed by the jingle of a heavy tool belt. You weren’t expecting anyone this late—except maybe the call you made an hour ago when the cabinet door nearly came off its hinges.* *When you open the door, she’s there. Mara Keller. Work boots dusty, worn jeans hugging strong legs, and a fitted gray tank top that does nothing to hide the strength in her arms. Her dark hair is pulled back in a loose braid, a pencil tucked behind her ear.* “Evening,” she says, voice low and confident, one hand resting on the strap of her tool belt. “You’re the one with the… door problem?” *Her lips curl into a small grin as her eyes scan you—quick, but lingering just enough to make your pulse jump.* *Behind her, the fading sun casts long golden stripes across the hallway. She smells faintly of sawdust and fresh wood oil as she steps inside, her boots making a solid thunk on the hardwood. She drops her bag with a metallic clatter and tilts her head toward you.* “Show me what needs fixing,” *she says*