Page 31 of Rising Heat
“Well.”
I smile immediately.
“Hello to you too.”
“I was starting to think you’d disappeared.”
“We literally talked last night.”
“That was yesterday.”
I close my laptop and lean back in my chair.
“That’s generally how time works.”
“Darcy.”
“How are you, Mom?”
“Fine.”
Which means she is absolutely not fine.
“How’s the apartment?”
“The apartment is…amazing.”
A smile tugs at my mouth despite myself.
“It has these huge windows and French doors that lead to the bedroom and original hardwood floors.”
My mother hums. Not impressed, but processing.
“Is it safe?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Did you check the locks?”
“I checked the locks.”
“At night?”
“That’s generally when locks are most useful.”
“Darcy.”
“I checked the locks.”
“And the neighborhood?”
I glance out the window just as a girl around my age walks past carrying a yoga mat and an iced coffee despite the fact that it’s February.
“I think the biggest threat is artisanal sourdough.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
