"Hm. Yes." She can do that. More effective, though, if most of the view isn't her torso. Ruth sets the mirror down and turns it, hefting it back up again so it's facing away from her.

Now she's gone from the view, a disembodied voice whose chin bumps the top of the frame. "Gonna kick up a fuss when I do the same for you? Pardon. Last person...yes. Last one got mad when I didn't take the door."

She doesn't mention Ellie's name. The specifics don't really matter. What matters is that eventually, she might have an exit--and he won't. And as she shuffles in a tight circle, it's all too easy to ask the things she might not otherwise.