She came home at eleven fifteen and Zara was on the sofa with her laptop and the expression of someone whose project had been resisting her all evening and had won on points.
Zara looked up. She took one full look at Ava's face and closed the laptop without a word.
"Sit down," she said.
Ava sat. She set her bag on the floor and her coat on the arm of the sofa and she looked at the ceiling for a moment and then she looked at Zara and Zara looked back at her with the particular open attention she gave to conversations that actually mattered.
"Tell me everything," Zara said.
Ava told her. She told her about the food order and the corner table that had never been used for anything except files and the way the city had looked through the window at ten thirty when the darkness was complete.
