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The Bennet House
Sandra leans in the door of Claire's bedroom. Claire is sitting in front of her computer, one finger poised over her mouse. As Sandra watches, Claire takes a deep breath and clicks. Her email inbox refreshes: empty.
"Dammit!" Claire says.
"Claire!" Sandra says.
"Ugh. I was sure there's be something this morning! This is bad, Mom. If the college was going to take me off the waitlist, they'd have told me by now."
"You don't know that, your classmate said she was accepted just the other--"
"Don't remind me. I've got to go, Mom. Rachel is waiting."
"Yes, actually, I wanted to talk to you about ... that."
"I know, Mom." Claire sidesteps Sandra and heads into the hallway. "Believe me, hanging out with ex-assassins isn't my preferred way of spending what may be the first of many 'last summers before college.'"
"Claire!" Sandra says. At her tone, Claire stops. "I have ... claw marks all over my house."
"I know, Mom," Claire says. "I'm telling Rachel today. She needs to finish this by herself."
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