Claire wanted—needed—to find some clarity, some serenity. But no matter what she did, which mantras she repeated or how many peaceful images she imagined, she kept coming back to the house on Dauphine. To the man meeting with Estelle in secret and the pictures of Xander and Sasha and the unshakable feeling that they were all in danger. She was relieved when Cecile finally closed the class with the customary bow and in-unison “Namaste.” Rolling up her mat, Claire grabbed her bag as Sasha did the same. Then they stepped onto the street, grabbed their bikes, and headed for the Muddy Cup. “You planning to tell me what’s going on?” Sasha finally asked when they were sitting at their table, the sun softened by the tint on the big picture window. “What do you mean?” Claire laughed nervously. She planned to tell Sasha about the letters, but she was still trying to figure out how much to say and how to say it in a way that wouldn’t make her sound crazy.
