After three nights of consistent sitting in silence, Emmy finally spoke. She reached into her bag and pulled out a little lunchbox. She unzipped it and pulled out a small container of brownies. “Do you want one?” She smiled, and it caught me off-guard. I’d never looked at Emmy as anything other than my sister’s friend. And I didn’t make a habit of hanging out with Mack’s friends. She held the glass container out to me. “I baked them. I took them out a minute early so they’re warm and gooey. Nobody wants an overbaked brownie.” I reached in and took out one of the corner pieces. She smiled
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