“F,” Daniel said simply, his lips curving into a knowing smile.

“F?” Sophia repeated, confusion evident in her voice.

“Yeah, F… face,” Daniel clarified, lifting his glass to study it… or to find cover…

Well damn. Apparently these two think my wings are tragic.

I don’t find bs like this charming… nope, she ordered herself, but her shoulders had dropped, her elbows finding the table. Familiar territory, this back-and-forth. The ghost of her mother’s kitchen finding her here.

“Ah, so it’s face, then A, and I guess T comes in last?” Sophia summarized. She gave him a slow nod, something glinting behind her eyes. “A man of taste. A sommelier.” She swirled her wine. “FAT is reserved for only the finest palates.”

Yup I hate these two people, Juniper thought. Issuing any gesture to such nonsense… illicit. Inadmissible.