"Hello," Mia told Bonnie, her burlap bag over her shoulder, glancing down at the offered hand. It wouldn't do to poison her... landlord?

"Forgive me, I don't... shake hands," she managed, looking up. "No offense. My skin... reacts badly, to touch."

Or rather everyone else's hand reacted badly. Not that anyone's managed to drop dead, yet.

"And I wouldn't want to trouble you," she added, shaking the bag. "It's not that heavy. I'm Mia..., that is, Amelia Sutton. I wrote to you about something cheap, possibly in the attic?"

Attics were hot during the day, froze at night, but might have more room and convenient windows for night flights. Although she might have some competition for that....