Storming into the flat, slamming the door behind her, Gwen slumped onto the sofa, coat still on and hood up.
“Not taking your coat off, Gwennie?” Rhys asked cautiously.
“No!” Gwen snapped.
“Um, why not?”
“There was an accident at work.”
“Are you hurt?”
Gwen whipped her coat off. She was bright orange.
“Nobody knows how long I’ll be like this! I look like a pumpkin!”
Rhys scratched his head.
“Good thing it’s nearly Halloween.”
A deathly hush fell as he realised he’d said the worst thing possible. Maybe one day he’d learn to think before speaking.