"Mom." My voice in the corridor was very quiet. "Tell me."
Diana Calloway did not do things quickly. She had been elegant and measured my entire life, the kind of woman who chose each word like she was dressing for an occasion, who considered pauses a form of punctuation. I had inherited my father's speed and my mother's precision and the combination had made me, variously, effective and exhausting.
Right now her pause was the longest I'd ever waited through.
"Not on the phone," she said finally. "Come to the house."
"Mom, I don't have one."
"Sophia." Her voice had something in it, I hadn't heard since the hospital waiting room four years ago. Something stripped of the elegant surface. "Come to the house. Please."
Adrian drove me.
I hadn't asked him to do that either. I'd walked ba
