“New York, California, Boston, Texas,” Nadia echoed, unmistakably impressed, “You have been around quite a bit. I would have loved to see New York.” All of her own traveling had occurred after the outbreak—not exactly the enjoyable scenic route. She considered stringing together a joke on the matter, something about vacations and Yelp, but the English phrasing failed her at the end. So instead, the woman settled for just answering the question:
“Brazil,” she said absently, still carefully rolling her ankle in its socket, gently testing the range of motion as Josh had demonstrated. “I came here because I had an older brother in the area.... Neither of you know of an Alejo Costa, do you? By chance?” She’d been quizzing most people about the name, but had stopped expecting the offhand question to pan out; it had simply become second nature by now.
Josh was still hovering by her side, and Nadia finally turned her attention to the piece of paper, neatly printed out. She craned her head over it beside the doctor (doctor-in-training; she couldn’t get over how youthful he looked, and how he reminded her of the cheeky tousle-haired boys back home). “So if I keep doing these, would you say I can be technically approved for supply scouting soon? I would still let it rest a bit more, of course. Maybe… one last week?”
She couldn’t help that little lilt of hopefulness rising in her voice.