13
The next day, Danica didn’t linger in her classroom after school. She gave the floors a desultory once-over with the broom, then gathered up her things and headed home so she could change for dinner. Not into the teal-blue silk gown — it was far too dressy for such an occasion, and would send the wrong message — but her wine-colored wool, the one she wore to church.
At least Mrs. Wilson hadn’t seemed too surprised by the Wilcoxes’ invitation. “Oh, yes, they had Mrs. Marshall and her boys over to dinner when she was first hired at the school, so it’s only fitting that they would extend the same courtesy to you,” she’d said. “I’ll just make up something small and light tomorrow, since it’ll only be Clara and me.” The landlady smiled slightly. “Well, unless she tries to invite that young
