Better than the photograph Sophie had already approved for release.
My phone vibrated across the table.
Rachel.
Where are you?
I typed:
Diner.
Her response arrived immediately.
Which diner?
Claire leaned over the table.
“Tell her the one with food.”
I sent the address.
Three dots appeared.
Stopped.
Returned.
Stay inside. Marcus is coming. Photographers moved to side streets.
I placed the phone facedown.
“Rachel says stay inside.”
Claire lifted a forkful of pancakes.
“Rachel finally understands me.”
We finished slowly.
Not because we needed more time.
Because nobody had asked us to leave.
The waitress brought the check and a slice of pie we had not ordered.
“Celebration,” she said.
Claire looked at me.
“You’re famous enough for free pie.”
“I’ve reached the dream.”
The bell above the door chimed.
A man entered carrying a camera.
He was not looking at us.
