"Maybe we're just over-reacting" said Sacha. She meant Hannah, specifically, but she wanted to show solidarity. "Do we really know she's depressed? I mean . . . maybe she's got chronic fatigue or something."

"That's not exactly comforting" Hannah pointed out.

"Yeah, true. Bad example. But what I mean is - here we are talking about how depressed she is and everything, but do we even know that? Do we know it for sure?"

"I guess not . . ." said Hannah cautiously. It was strange: now that she'd grasped at the idea of depression she found herself reluctant to let go of it. "But if I assume the best, and something terrible happens, I'll never forgive myself" she said.

"You're going to have to go over there some time" Sacha said. "Go and see her."

"I know."

"If nothing else then just to find out."

"I know."

"Because we really need to find out. I mean, we can't do anything just sitting around here worrying. You know?"

"Yeah, yeah I know." Hannah gritted her teeth. Then she relaxed again warily. "You really think maybe there's nothing to worry about?"

"I do" Sacha said. "Sure, maybe. I mean come on, can you imagine Rona being depressed? Huh?" She smiled, and she and Hannah simultaneously, silently, tried to convince themselves that no, they couldn't imagine it.

"I mean it's not like we really know anything, is it" said Hannah, carefully warming to the theme. "Apart from the fact that she's sleeping a lot, obviously."

"She might just have the 'flu" Sacha shrugged.

Hannah seized on this suggestion gratefully. "Yeah, exactly! Fuck, last time I had the 'flu I slept for days. Sure as hell didn't feel like partying."

She smiled. "Well, apart from those couple of nights I got high on Sudafed. Fuck, I love that stuff."

"Sure" said Sacha. As Hannah seemed to get more confident of this new diagnosis, Sacha grew less so. "Still" she said, "we're not going to know anything until we find out."

Hannah's smile faded, and she sighed. "Yeah" she said at length, facing up to the matter at hand. "Yeah, you're right."