Ellie is quiet, reading but not reading the thoughts Abby's having underneath the surface. She can sense the tangle of emotions, mostly because she knows them well. She just can't do anything to understand details.

That's what doesn't fit about Abby. The details.

She wonders if she's ever known anyone so well, and yet not at all.

Ellie wrestles with it, the idea of asking about it. Her nightmare. Whatever would keep her with a half-full bag.

What was the worst day of your life?

Was it because of me?

She resolves to do it. To ask. To say it out loud, to ask about Abby as a person and damn the consequences, but then Abby brings it back to her hurts, and the moment shatters. Ellie shakes herself out of the strangeness and back to the present, and stretches out her leg in front of her, flexing the muscles before she slides off the edge and onto her feet. Puts weight on it.

It pulls a touch, but it's sturdy.

"Stitches aren't going anywhere."