Ezra

I look up from the television as the front door opens. Wren’s giggle meets my ears before she steps in, her phone pressed up against her ear.

Her eyes widen momentarily when she sees me.

“Excuse me for a bit,” she speaks into the phone, cupping the mouthpiece.

“Hey, Ezra.” Her smile is warm, free, compared to the past three days. “Ray’s outside, says he wants to see you.”

She jerks her thumb to the door, and goes back to her call, giggling and whispering.

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