Diana read the email standing at Aria’s desk.
She read it once quickly and then once slowly, which was her method — the quick read for the overall shape and the slow read for the specific content, the same way she had apparently always read things and the same way Aria had learned to read things without knowing she had learned it from her mother.
She set the printed copy down.
“The condition is May,” she said.
“Yes,” Aria said.
“And you’re thinking about the baby,” Diana said. “About whether May and eight months are compatible.”
“Yes,” Aria said.
Diana looked at her. “Wrong question,” she said.
Aria looked at her. “What’s the right question?”
“The right question,” Diana said, “is what does Cole Mitchell look like when you come back from maternity leave.” She held Aria’s gaze. “Not
