I stands in the golden spill of early morning light, sleeves rolled high, hair pulled back in a no-nonsense knot, hands already dusted with the day’s work. There’s dirt under her nails and a faint sheen of sweat on her brow, but her eyes (God, those eyes) burn with something fiercer than exhaustion. They say, “I’ve already decided how this story ends, and it ends with me winning.” She is holding a clipboard in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other, because Lara doesn’t believe in choosing between getting things done and staying human. She does both, stubbornly, beautifully.