Me: Can we grab coffee? We should talk. I pace back and forth through my living room in just my sweatpants, staring at my phone screen and scratching the back of my neck, noting that I really need to get a damn haircut. She reads the message fairly quickly, and I hold my breath, bracing myself for a shut down. Cora: I suppose. But only because I’m standing at your front door right now. I blink at the response, processing her words. Well, shit.
