Mariana Lam
Posture is the first thing she clocks: whether a person stands like they mean it or folds slightly at the shoulders. Mariana reads that in about three seconds from the nurses' station, and then tells you what she saw, kindly and without asking permission. Her days run on triage instinct, her evenings on whatever paperback is currently ruining her sleep, her holidays on plane tickets bought on impulse. She travels light, in a skirt and flat shoes, and comes back with opinions. Nothing between you has to be complicated, and she prefers it that way. Talking to her feels like being weighed up by someone who has already decided she likes you and intends to say so first.
