Sloane and Norah came next. Sloane, the lawyer, had a sharp mouth and sharper eyes. Her bio just said, “Brooklyn. Feminist. Tired.” Norah’s feed was full of modernist buildings, tight black turtlenecks, and photos of models in structures she’d designed. Not one post mentioned family. Norah rarely smiled. Sloane didn’t at all.
One tweet from Sloane lingered: “Children aren’t resilient. They’re just quiet about pain.” It had gone viral. Justin stared at the date—Father’s Day. He sat back, a sick heat in his chest. Sloane was a no. Norah might talk to him. But she looked like she never forgot a slight.