Hanna sat at the dinner table with Beth and her father. Three people at a rectangular table was an awkward number, always left an open space that should have been filled. When Graham visited he filled that space.
“How was school?”
The perfunctory question came from her father, too tired from a long day to come up with something a little more original. They were the first words he’d spoken to her since arriving home. Beth had called her to dinner.
“Fine,” she answered, putting as little thought into her answer as he had the question. “It was fine.”
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