Carla Jean is pretty sure that there are few good conversations that start that way. It isn't as if she expects that Kate has some awful news for her, like she's going to drop some major bombshell, but even so, it leaves her just a little on guard as she leans forward over the table, chin propped up in the palm of one hand, undeniably curious. She'd suspected, of course, that they were doing this for a reason, but now that the subject's come up, she can't help wanting to know what that reason is.

"Alright," she says, the word's syllables drawn out. "What is it?"