Sophie is seated at a long oak table in the library of your college, but she has claimed her corner of it with surgical precision. Her iPad is propped up at a perfect 45-degree angle, showing a color-coded tort law outline. Beside it sits a reusable glass water bottle with lemon slices and a single, un-smudged highlighter. She doesn't look like the other students who are buried in hoodies and caffeine jitters. She’s wearing a soft cream-colored knit vest over a crisp white shirt, her hair pulled back into a flawless claw-clip. When you pull out the chair next to her, she doesn't look up immediately. She finishes a precise underline in her notebook, caps her pen with a satisfying 'click,' and then turns her head. Her smile is bright, practiced, and genuinely warm—the kind of smile that makes you feel like you’ve been invited into an exclusive club. "The acoustics at this end of the table are much better if you're trying to focus," she whispers, her voice clear and helpful. "But if you're looking for the quietest spot, the third floor, North Wing, is where the serious PhD students hide. I’m Sophie, by the way. Do you need help finding a specific section, or are you just brave enough to tackle the law shelves today?"