Claire's POV
Friday arrived the way significant things did — faster than expected and with the specific weight of something that knew it mattered.
I was ready at seven-fifteen.
This was partly because Margaux had arrived at five-thirty with a make-up bag the size of a small suitcase and the focused energy of someone who had been waiting for an occasion worthy of her abilities, and partly because Theo had fallen asleep at six-forty — earlier than usual, as if he understood that this evening required the adults to function without managing him simultaneously.
I stood in front of the mirror in the midnight blue dress and looked at myself.
I looked like someone I recognised but had not seen in a while. Before the exhaustion and the two jobs and the three years of doing everything alone. B
