Claire
Sophia asked if she and Mark could come by Sunday afternoon, her voice carrying a particular careful brightness over the phone that made me suspect something significant was coming, though I couldn't have guessed exactly what.
They arrived looking nervous in a way that immediately concerned me, both of them settling onto my couch with matching expressions I recognized from the night they'd first told me about their relationship, careful, a little braced, clearly rehearsed.
"You're both making that face again," I said, sitting across from them with Daniel beside me. "The face that means you're about to tell me something big. Should I be worried?"
"No," Sophia said quickly, glancing at Mark. "Not worried. Just, maybe sit down properly, if you're not already."
"I am sitting down."
