Elena's POV
"You're doing the thing where you go quiet on me."
Mia's voice crackled faintly through the phone, home noise humming behind her, and I pressed it tighter against my ear like that might close the distance between her ordinary evening and mine.
"I'm here," I said. "Just tired."
"You've said that every night this week."
"It's been a tiring week."
"Elena." She said my name the way she always did when she knew I was hiding something, patient and a little exasperated, the tone of someone who'd known me long enough to see straight through my careful, practiced calm. "Talk to me or don't. But don't lie to me and call it tired."
"I'm not lying."
"You're doing the voice."
I closed my eyes, sitting cross-legged on my apartment floor with my laptop glowing pale against the dark,
