high-chair tray. She wore a bright yellow sundress, entirely free of stains or tears.
Clara smiled, wiping a stray drop of milk from the counter. She was dressed in a sharp, tailored navy pantsuit, her auburn hair pinned back securely. Looking in the mirror by the door, she barely recognized the woman staring back. The dark circles under her eyes were gone. The permanent knot of anxiety in her stomach had dissolved.
Her phone buzzed on the counter. It was a calendar notification: 10:00 AM – Quarter Review with Mr.
