eighty-nine

Emma sat, and sipped, and listened as people talked.

Really, she thought, she was listening to a group of people who all knew each other catching up on their lives. They were talking about other people they all knew, and things they all remembered and understood, and some of it seemed to require more explanation than was given to understand properly.

Emma couldn’t follow all of it, but she didn’t really mind.

She sat, and sipped, and waited, mostly listening to Izzy.

It was less interesting than having a conversation with Izzy herself, but it wasn’t a bad way to pass an afternoon.

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