I had not seen Celia in almost four years. The last time we spoke, it had been over a quick coffee before I left the city, back when my name was still circulating in places I no longer wanted to be. We had promised to keep in touch, but promises like that often lose their shape once life begins to pull you in different directions.

She had sent a short message a week ago. Heard you are back in the city for good. Dinner? My treat. It made me smile because she had always been the kind of friend ...