She nods, a tiny thing, and breathes in the scent of the tea. At this rate, she's going to end up permanently associating tea with hard conversations and loved ones.

"I still worry, every morning before I open my eyes, that somehow I'll be back. And that everything I have here, it'll all fade into the mist. I'll have to go right back to surviving."

As if they aren't surviving here. But it's been months, and she hasn't had to feel that sick sensation of being hunted down.

"This place can be awful, no doubt, but it's not...that. That's why I keep count of how long it's been since I arrived - so I can see how much space there is between myself and there."