For a second, Nadia merely stared at the stranger, the tension in her shoulders caught between bracing for another sting and the unexpected relief of someone else firing the shot for her. The gossipers' sudden silence felt almost too good. "Guess some things never change." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, letting out a slow breath that sounded more tired than anything. Her gaze slid back to the woman, cautious, like she was measuring if she knew her, or worse.. remembered her. But there was no spark of recognition she could read. She turned to face her wretched machine, one that would rue the day it ever thought it could cross her. "Still—thanks," she added after a beat, and another strong tug at the stupid machine that finally decided to behave. "I was about two seconds away from telling them off myself and... well, pretty sure that wouldn't have done me any favours."

"You're not wrong... this town runs on whispers. You happen to flare up at the wrong time and suddenly that's the headline for the next six months," she said, perhaps with a bit of self-reflection on her own complicated past.

Her gaze lingered on the gossipers just long enough to make them shift in their seats before returning her gaze to the woman who seemed oddly familiar.

"Honestly, you handled it better than most and likely didn't need me budding in...I couldn't help myself," she shrugged.

She tipped her head toward the washer with a dry laugh. "I'd keep an eye on that machine. Looks like it's got a mean streak," she said and tipped her chin toward the washer with a dry laugh.

She stayed still a beat longer, credulous, then exhaled slowly.

"Guess I didn't get the memo about being part of the scenery."

Her eyes flicked to the camera screen when it was offered, cautious yet unwilling to come across as rude. She leaned in just enough to catch the image, brows lifting in quiet surprise.

"Hmm.. Not what I was expecting. You actually caught something...softer than it feels."

She straightened up again, one corner of her mouth tugging in the faintest smile. " You always make a habit of turning strangers into your subjects?"

𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑰𝑷𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑻 ⸺  0/4 characters.

𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 ⸺  the laundry basket, one afternoon

The hum of the dryers made it easy enough to pretend she wasn't listening, at least, until her name drifted across the laundromat. She hadn't even been back in town a week and already the gossip mill was running at full speed. Two locals folded clothes at the counter, talking just quietly enough to think they weren’t being heard... except she caught every word. "...you know, the girl who had that car accident and lost her memories? Her dad just passed, so now she's back running that old motel." A beat of silence, then a laugh— "Do you think she remembers us?" Nadia clenched her jaw, forcing herself not to rise to it. Not today. She was already this close to losing it and didn’t need another excuse to give in. This is Sedona, she reminded herself.. tight-knit, small town, and never shy about noticing everything.

Izzy pushed off the machine, her tone casual but sharp enough to cut.

"Must be exhausting keeping track of other people's business better than your own," she smirked.

The women ducked their heads, suddenly fascinated with folding towels. Izzy's glare shiftted to the woman at the machine, softer now, but laced with that quiet edge.

"Don't let those old hags bother you. This town runs on rumors...same as always." With that, she settled back against the dryer, as though she’d simply observed a program running its course.