Clara’s pov
The warmth hit right as I set Frank’s coffee down.
It bloomed under my ribs, low, steady, and completely wrong. My hand jerked. The cup rattled against the saucer and coffee sloshed over the rim.
Frank looked up from his newspaper. “Whoa. Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Sorry.” I grabbed a napkin and wiped the spill, keeping my voice even. “Just clumsy this morning.”
He watched me a second longer than usual. “You look like you didn’t sleep. Everything is okay upstairs?”
“Fine. Really.”
“You sure? You’ve got that same look my daughter used to get when something was eating at her.”
“I’m sure.” I forced a small smile. “Extra napkins?”
He nodded and let it go, but his eyes stayed on me a moment longer. I moved to the next table before he could ask anything else.
The heat didn
