man near the avocados was explaining to his wife that ripeness should not be so difficult. I picked up apples and reminded myself that I shopped here regularly. Coming back did not require a moral defense.
“Well,” a voice said behind me. “You survived.”
I turned.
Sabrina stood beside a cart of boxed cereal, her hair tied loosely at the back of her neck. The green polo was the same, but her expression was entirely different from the frightened face I had first seen. She looked amused and pleased, and
