"Nav, you are veering perilously into sentimentality," Harrow says, though the look she gives her isn't as sharp as it might have been, less tinged with exasperation than it would be if they weren't alone right now. She eats a few more spoonfuls of her sorbet, one eye on Gideon the whole time.

"Home, or..." she says, or starts to say, setting her cup and spoon aside. "We could stay longer. It's quiet here."