Zara came home wearing her satisfaction quietly, the way a person does when something long-worked-for finally begins to move in the right direction. The tension that had lived in her shoulders for months had loosened, just slightly, and it showed in the way she carried herself through the front door.
She found her mother at the foot of the stairs, shawl around her shoulders, heading to bed.
“You’re back.” Mrs. Ashford’s face brightened. “How was it?”
Zara stepped into her arms. “Everything is going according to plan, Mum. He spoke to me. He’s interested.” She pulled back, and they looked at each other and then both of them laughed, quietly, so as not to wake the house.
“Such a fool,” Mrs. Ashford said, shaking her head.
“Such a fool,” Zara agreed.
Her mother patted her cheek. “Now
