Easy questions first. “Sugar'd be great. And a splash”—he pinches two fingers together—“of milk.” As soon as it's out of his mouth he wonders if that was some kind of test, how Glenn takes his coffee. Shifts in his seat, conscious suddenly of his hands, his posture—seated half-facing the table, one foot hooked around the leg of the chair—and his expression.

“I don't know,” he says eventually, because it's better than leaving the question just hanging there. “Does he have any, um, tattoos?” Careful not to look at her too long: “Or scars?”