“You okay?” “Me? Yeah. Fine,” she says, but her voice is shaky. “Why?” I shrug. “Just checking.” I hand her the sweating plastic cup with a smile. She takes it, confusion wrinkling her brow. “What’s this?” “Iced dirty chai. That’s what you like, right?” She looks so confused and mildly upset that a bolt of panic shoots through me. “Did I get it wrong? I’m sorry. I’ll buy you something else at—” She cuts me off. “No, no, no, it’s my favorite. I can’t believe you remembered. Thank you, Matt.”
