Her fingers remained frozen against the earring.
She never finished fastening it.
“Where did you get that?”
I nearly laughed.
“Your couch.”
Claire didn’t respond.
I lifted the photograph.
“Who is Nora?”
Her hand slowly dropped.
“Ethan…”
“No.” I pointed at the date. “Why did you write this the day we met?”
She looked toward the couch as if another explanation might somehow be waiting there.
Finally she said, “Because I knew who you were.”
I stared at her.
“Before Tinder?”
“Yes.”
The bright green dress suddenly looked almost ridiculous against the room.
“You knew me before we matched?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Instead of answering, Claire looked at the photograph.
I read the note aloud.
“‘Found Ethan today. Tell him.’ Tell me what?”
She reached for the back of a dining chair but didn’t sit down.
