"Did they ever catch the guy who did it? Killed your dad, I mean."

Claire looked at Leon and tilted her head, trying to imagine him as a guidance counselor. It was nearly impossible to imagine him as one of the faintly ridiculous people who'd been counselors at her school; they were all faded somehow, like they'd spent so much time working on kids' careers that they'd never put any thought into their own.

"I don't know, Leon," she said, bringing herself back from her own imagination. "If these were just, you know, your friends or something, I know just what I'd say... but they're your family."

Claire isn't the kind of person who can write off blood relatives, either. Some people can; she can't.