Finally, she quietly leans in and whispers, “Is this some sort of prank show that I’m on, and I don’t know about it?” “What?” I ask, confused. She motions between us. “This . . . this can’t possibly be a real thing, so do you have me on a prank show? Oh God, is this for the team? Are there cameras?” She looks around again, lifting out of her chair to get a better look. I settle my hand on her shoulder and push her back on her seat. Looking her in the eyes, I say, “There is no prank show, Penny. I wouldn’t do that to you.” She studies me again, her expression a mixture of humor and confusion.
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