The message came on a in morning, while Fiona was eating toast at her kitchen counter and trying not to think too hard about the week ahead.
It was not a long message. Martin had never been a man who used more words than necessary.
"I'd like to talk. In person. Name a place."
She stared at it for long enough that the toast went cold. Fiona set the toast down and read the message again, as if the second reading might change what it said or clarify what she was supposed to do with it.
She typed three different responses and deleted all of them.
Then she typed: "Lunara Cove path. Tomorrow. Ten o'clock." And sent it before she could talk herself out of it.
