She walked back in, carefully balancing a large mug filled to the very brim with coffee. The rich aroma drifted through the air, warming the space between us. I appreciated the effort, but she really didn’t need to risk burning herself just to make sure I had enough. The small, unnecessary kindness made something unfamiliar stir in my chest, something I wasn’t ready to name yet.
Sitting here in her bedroom, in her bed, listening to her conversation with Lydia, I’d realized something. Something unsettling.
I barely knew anything about Kathleen.
Not in the ways that actually mattered.
I didn’t know where she grew up. Didn’t know if her parents were still around. I had no idea if she was the type of person who thrived on competition, playing sports until she was drenched in sweat, or if s
