There was a sense of relief, after the initial impact with the floor. A hand reached down to pull her up and after a beat, Beatrice took hold. The first characteristic of the stranger was her voice. As she rose to her feet, she took in the woman's image from her feet up to the top of her head. It was a practice she had come to do much like breathing.
"Where am I?" Her voice was shaky and the tone teetered on a sob. It took Beatrice a moment to let go of the hand. The grip had almost been for dear life. "How did I get here?"