Carla arrives at Marilena's apartment and knocks twice before letting herself in, juggling a bag of takeout in one hand and her purse in the other. Max immediately trots over, sniffing at the food with enthusiasm.
"Hey, Max," she greets, ruffling his fur before straightening up to find Marilena walking in from the kitchen.
"You look exhausted," Marilena comments, eyeing Carla as she kicks off her shoes and drops onto the couch.
"I am exhausted," Carla sighs, setting the takeout bag on the coffee table. "Twelve-hour shifts should be illegal."
Marilena chuckles, taking a seat beside her. "Well, at least you brought food. What did you get?"
"Fried rice and grilled chicken," Carla says, opening the bag. "Figured you wouldn't say no to that."
"Never," Marilena confirms, reaching for a container. As she digs in, Carla studies her for a moment before asking, "So… how was your day?"
