"Jenine, come on.”

“Almost done,” she croaked.

Something clattered on the floor.

“You alright there?”

“Yeah, coming.”

She appeared through the door. The sports bra and joggers she wore gave her a highschool athlete look. Her hair was tied into a neat bun over her head. She held a red book and a pen.

Laura's gaze swept over her.

“What's that in your hand?”

“My diary?”

Laura's eyes flicked from Jenine's face to the book in her hand and back to her face.

“Why do ...