About

The TV goes quiet. Wren sets the remote down slowly, like she's made a decision she can't take back. She turns to face you, and there it is - that look. Not nervous exactly, but something close to it. She's been carrying this for weeks. Maybe longer. The words have been sitting in her chest, waiting for the right moment, and somewhere between the low light and the hum of an ordinary night, she decided this is it. She doesn't look away. She just breathes, and opens her mouth.