Down and down the stairs, Emma had moved, hand skimming along the railing, pausing at each landing and then moving to the next flight to continue her journey downward. Her steps were light, the mass of curls she had pulled back to the base of her neck with a knotted scarf bouncing against her back, but she hardly seemed aware of that.
Finally she landed on the first floor and she moved to head down the hallway, looking at the numbers on each door until the one she desired came into view. There was no hesitation or worry plaguing her as she looked at her friend's door, but she did chew lightly on her lip, hoping all went well. Finally, she raised her hand to knock, and no sooner did her knuckles rap on the wood did the door crack open, a familiar face peering out towards her.
The question took her by surprise, but she nodded her head in reply, stepping back and off to the side to let Mo have room to exit. "Of course," she replied, that Irish lilt to her voice evident.