Sacha came home; she could tell something was wrong. When she went to her room she could hear Hannah sloshing in the bath; though she hadn't lived with Hannah all that long, Sacha had picked up some behavioural traits: when Hannah showered it was a functional activity: to get clean, to get ready to go out. When she had a bath, however, it was because she needed to soak for a while, think about things.

She knocked on the bathroom door. "Hannah? Everything all right?"

"Oh, Sacha!" Hannah's voice echoed from behind the door. "I didn't hear you come in. Hang on, I'll be right out."

Sacha went into the kitchen and brewed a pot of tea. Ten minutes later Hannah emerged, wrapped in a towel, her dark hair dripping and stringy with water. Her face was fixed in a look of consternation.

"What's wrong?" Sacha asked.

"I'm worried about Rona" Hannah replied.

Sacha frowned and poured them each a cup of tea. She didn't want to look like she was taking Hannah's concerns lightly, but at the same time she wanted to be a reassuring presence. "How so?" she said at length.

"You ever notice how . . . how she's just not interested in anything any more?"

Sacha nodded. In truth, she had noticed - even though she'd spoken to Rona so infrequently recently. In fact, she'd noticed that too. "Ever since she lost her job" she said.

"Yeah. I just called her today, apparently Mal's got some gig on this Sunday, and you know how much she likes his band . . . But - nothing! It's like she barely even registered that I was talking to her."

"Right."

"And another thing: she was talking about sleeping. Like, not 'sleeping'" - Hannah made air-quotes with her fingers and flashed her eyes wide for emphasis - "but, the way she was talking, it sounds like she spends all her time asleep."

Sacha nodded carefully. "You think she's depressed?"

"Or getting there." Hannah sat down, and looked at Sacha, more worried now than ever. "But don't you think it sounds like it?"

Sacha forgot about the tea. It wasn't important. "Yeah" she nodded. "I do."