The apartment has become a library.
She's been in here for ten hours with cold coffee, which, for an Italian girl on her first real holiday in months, is either impressive or deeply concerning.
Ellie opens the door like she's executing a rescue operation.
"Mia." She crosses to the window and yanks the curtains open. Sunlight floods in. Mia flinches like a creature that has forgotten what daylight is.
"I was just finishing the post-injury complications section—"
"You've been in here since yesterday." Ellie plucks the pen from her fingers.
"You know what normal people do when they finally get a break? They live. They go outside. They eat something that isn't cold coffee."
She holds up her phone. "Look at this."
The screen shows a photograph of Tofino—gold sand, deep Pacific blue, a s
