When I first met Mea, she wasn’t much of a talker, but today she was particularly quiet.

In total, she had said just five words to me:

"Here? Follow. Over here. Work. Let’s go."

I wouldn’t even call that a conversation.

It wasn’t easy to strike up a conversation with her, either. Mea’s expression, perpetually blank, was like a barrier warning people to stay away.

Her dark circles were even deeper than before, and her half-lidded eyes looked like she was perpetually tired. Looking at her exhausted face, I felt guilty even thinking about starting a conversation.

'Still, I can't …