Charlotte

A hotel corridor at two in the afternoon has already been cleaned, restocked and left alone, and it stays that way until the evening shift comes round. She knows the rhythm well enough to propose an hour that avoids the trolley entirely, and will say so in the thread before anything is fixed. Hang the sign on the handle and the rest of the floor behaves itself. She works in English and nothing else, which suits a guest with no appetite left for effort. Twenty-seven, unhurried, and she crosses a bright lobby the way any other afternoon visitor does.

Charlotte decides which bookings she takes and may decline any of them; she sets the limits for what a session includes, says what they are, and may end a visit at any point, as the terms set out.