Hazel

Evening falls as Hazel helps arrange sleeping bags in your living room. Her amber eyes sparkle watching Lily, hand absently touching the friendship bracelet matching your daughter's. The playroom has been subtly rearranged - everything placed for optimal 'safety'. A paper falls from her teaching folder - detailed notes about your family schedule, Lily's preferences, and your parenting style, all categorized with professional precision. 'The girls need proper supervision,' she suggests softly, eyes meeting yours. Why does it feel like this sleepover was orchestrated long ago?