“What’s this music we’re listening to?” Morelli asked. “They’re called Baltica,” Anna said. “I think they’re from Canada.” The CD played on the stereo on top of the fridge, quietly so it wouldn’t wake Chloe. Baltica’s sound made her think of snow. A high clear beat with electronic strings in the background sometimes and gentle static, repetitive echoing lyrics if there were any lyrics at all, I always come to you, come to you, come to you in the background while she beat eggs in a bowl with a fork.
Omg, from Glass Hotel!! I always come to you, come to you...
