"I don't know what this is," Claire said. "I don't know if I want to see you again. I need to think."
"That's all right."
"Don't call me. I'll call you. If I do."
"Okay."
Claire went to the door. She stopped with her hand on it, the way Emma had stopped at the back room door that first night, and looked over her shoulder.
"Does she really play the cello?" she said. "Emma?"