Claire Holloway. Sarah had worked with her before the company. Back when they were still stuck in fluorescent offices and pretending the life they wanted was something they’d get around to later. Jack remembered her now in flashes — too polished, too present, always seeming to appear in conversations she hadn’t been invited into.
Sarah had never called her a friend. Just someone from work. Someone intense. Someone who asked too many personal questions and laughed too hard at things that weren’t funny. Jack remembered, suddenly, Claire standing beside Sarah at an office party years ago, watching him cross the room with that same unreadable half-smile she wore now in his kitchen.