The envelope looks oddly familiar, but she doesn’t know why. Natasha orders coffee from room service and sits in one of the two chairs in her room. She likes the subtle colours this hotel chose for their fabrics. She recalls other hotels, other rooms with colours that left her feeling edgy. The treatments are hard enough, she thinks, and decides she got lucky choosing a hotel whose colours don't make her sick.
The envelope is sealed. She tears one side off and pulls out a single sheet of paper. The words are handwritten. No signature. I’ll be in Tacoma on Thursday. Can’t wait to see you!
She jumps when she hears the rap at her door, then remembers the pot of coffee she ordered. Despite the softness of the room, Natasha is on edge.