Jo's table is gathering people. It's the odd thought that strikes her, oddly enough, when Kate leaves the table.

That she'd already had Thorfinn at a side, and Kate had come to join. There were the others who stopped to say things to her, or even to talk to Thorfinn. It's not like the Roadhouse. There's no bar between her and them, and this place is not hers. She didn't buy it. She hasn't staked a claim on it. Isn't sure she wants anything like it. Not again. Not so soon. Not after trying only to end up here.

But there's an ache under her breastbone, sharp and sure, anyway.
Just for the thought surfacing. For the reminder. The memories.





She watches quietly, hoping for the best in all of this.