Ella nodded, because she'd come to the same conclusion. "The anonymous posts do make it seem like this entire building is fixated on what happens in everyone else's bedrooms," she admitted, squeezing Rosalie's fingers. The other woman looked more damaged in this sharp light - the bruises impossibly purple on pale skin, knees bloodied under the hurried hospital gown, the red ends of her pale blonde hair frightening in their brightness. "I'm sorry we quarreled. I think we both want the same things for him, you and I, we just have a different notion of how to get there," she admitted.