Pepper stepped through an unremarkable doorway, waving the lights on as she entered. It was a room. Sidra didn't know how to quantify it beyond that. How did one place value on a room? She couldn't say if the room was good or not, but it was hers. That was interesting. [...] stacks of crates and boxes, hastily shoved aside to make pathways and openings [...] Pepper pressed her lips together, a little at a loss. "I don't know what a good place for you consist of. But we'll work together to make it comfortable, yeah? We really want you to feel at home here." "Thank you." Sidra said, and she meant it, fully. She didn't know what she wanted in a space, either. She swung the head around, to take inventory. There was the bed, as mentioned, big enough for two if they cuddled close. The covers were thick, to ward off the dark side chill, and the pillows looked... inviting.

— A Closed and Common Orbit by Becky Chambers (Wayfarers, #2) (Page 35)