She has seen him before. The muscles on his back run like rope on pulleys as he manipulates the sienna mound. It's hard to see what he's working on through the
lace curtain and she daren't move it in case it catches his eye. The
power trips. He swears into the darkness. Her pulse quickens. She anticipates the light before it makes her
squint. He is a perfect silhouette, working the clay like
he's birthing a new species.
A car hooter sounded just as Derek closed the door. He walked around the desk and sat opposite her, drumming his fingers on his armrest.
"Do you know why I called you here today?"
She swallowed. Her mind became a roundabout of thoughts until she settled on one possibility.
"We are concerned about you, Sarah. Ever since Jack..." He cleared his throat.
"You can say it." Her voice sounded underwater to her. "Ever since Jack died."
