Cassie comes home from the bookstore and shelves John Webber’s copy of The Count of Monte Cristo beside her own well-worn copy, which triggers memories of reading her grandfather’s book in Myrtle Creek. She changes clothes and briefly judges her own appearance in the mirror, still weighed down by the day’s sadness.

In the living room, Cassie finds her roommate Izzy back early from drinks with coworkers, complaining about an unpleasant man who tried to flirt with her. Their banter steadies Cassie, and Izzy’s familiar, caring curiosity turns toward what is happening in Cassie’s life.

Cassie admits that Mr. Webber died at the store that day, describing him as lonely and saying the police dismissed it as one of those moments when “sometimes people just die.” Izzy offers sympathy while also prying for details, and the snowfall outside becomes a quiet backdrop to their shared stillness.

Izzy notices the leather notebook in Cassie’s lap, and Cassie explains it was a gift from Mr. Webber. Izzy flips through the book, dismissing it as incoherent and wondering if it might be worth money, then jokingly suggests Mr. Webber was sweet on Cassie, which Cassie rejects.

To lift the mood, Izzy proposes their old “Favorite Game” and asks Cassie to describe her best day. Cassie avoids her most private childhood memories and instead recalls traveling in Europe after her grandfather died, settling on a vivid memory of Venice: a warm hostel, a narrow cobbled street, and waking to the smell of fresh bread as locals gathered for coffee.

Still thinking of Venice, Cassie gets up to put the book away and make coffee, but as she reaches for the hallway door she feels a strange internal shudder, as if the world tightens and releases. When Cassie opens the door, she is no longer in her apartment—she is looking out onto the same rainy Venetian street from her memory.