forty-five

“You must have something,” Izzy said.

“I suppose do, but… it’s really hard, thinking like this. Being put on the spot, and just having to remember something.”

“Yeah I know,” Izzy said pointedly. “It is, isn’t it?”

Emma smiled. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. But tell me something anyway.”

Emma thought. “You don’t care about something from when I was eight, do you?”

“Not really, no. Not unless it’s really embarrassing.”

“I cried when my mother dropped me off at school.”

“When you were eight?”

“I still did it then.”

Izzy grinned. “Okay, yeah, that is kind of embarrassing.”

“So is that enough?” Emma said, hopefully.

Izzy shook her head, still grinning. “Nope. Not at all. Tell me something else.”

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