Stavanger Bay And turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach

Roz talks about the crew though it’s vague enough that she can’t decipher who she’s talking about—not that she knows anyone, for that matter—but she brushes it off and shrugs one shoulder with indifference. Eventually she’ll get around to it but right now she still prefers being alone but her attacker hasn’t left her alone since she ran into him a few weeks ago.
 
She licks her lips as the question is presented, glancing over to one side as if to consider the question. Her mind only goes as far as her critical thinking allows and, well, it’s not very far. “Um, I don’t know,” she says, feeling a weird tension in her chest as if the other woman is judging her so she scrambles to try and find something, glancing back toward her quickly. “What made you pick here?”