The day was lovely, and Ella was glad to be outdoors. In truth, she was glad to have the company of someone like Helena too. She'd been feeling better lately, even with the shadow of Vaughn hanging somewhere just over her shoulder (she knew she hadn't seen the last of her sister). The hurt of Daniel's rejection was fading into something sore to the touch instead of constantly aching, and even if she wasn't writing anymore, she was back to enjoying her books without feeling like they were unwitting accomplices in her truncated love life.
She was wearing a pair of vintage, corduroy pants and a thick, cable knit sweater, her long hair piled up loosely on her head, the bruises on her chin and temple a distant memory.
When she saw Helena she smiled, but the smile faded when she saw how tired the other woman looked. She walked up to her, and she slipped an arm through hers. "Tell me everything," she encouraged.