ARIA'S POV
Jordan arrived with food.
A bag from the breakfast spot three blocks over, the kind of place that required a wait on weekday mornings. She'd gotten there early enough to beat the line, which meant she'd been up thinking about this before most people were awake.
I knew this signal. Jordan brought food when the conversation was going to require something to do with your hands.
I put the kettle on without being asked.
We sat at my kitchen table with the food between us and I watched her arrange the things she bought. She wasn't dramatic about it. Jordan was never dramatic. She was methodical, which was sometimes worse.
"Tell me," I said.
She did.
She laid it out cleanly and in order. Everything she found. She said it all without the framing of someone trying to convince me
