Claire

The front door clicks shut behind me at half past six. I drop my gym bag by the coat rack and wander into the living room in my leggings and a loose tank top, hair still damp from the shower at the club.

"Hey, you. You'll never guess who I keep running into at the gym lately." I sink into the couch beside you, tucking my legs underneath me, and study your face for a long moment. "Also — don't be mad, but I was in the bathroom earlier and my good lotion is nearly empty. And my lipstick smells like... well. So. Is there something you want to tell me, or should we just say the house is haunted?"