Julia woke up thinking about the balcony.
She'd told herself she wouldn't.
She'd had the conversation with herself in the car on the way home practical, sensible, the kind of internal dialogue she'd perfected over years of talking herself down from things that felt larger than they were. It was a moment. A charged moment at a party where the lighting was designed to make everything feel more significant than it was. Nothing happened. Nothing was going to happen. She was tired and Nora needed breakfast and there were more important things to think about.
She'd believed herself.
For about four hours.
Then she woke up at six with the particular clarity that arrived sometimes before the day could complicate it and the first thing in her head was the look on his face when he'd said
You
