Ch. 20: Where We Begin

Rain traced long silver lines down the window, and somewhere a clock counted the hours.

"You shouldn't have come," he said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to. Money could buy a great many things, he had learned, but never the one thing that was wanted most.

"You shouldn't have come," he said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to. Sophia crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way he was watching without seeming to.

She remembered the first time, and the last, and all the ordinary days in between that had somehow mattered more. Sophia crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way he was watching without seeming to.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me," Sophia said. "I'm asking you to listen." Sophia crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way he was watching without seeming to. For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all.

Outside, the world went on as if nothing had shifted. Inside, everything had.

For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all. For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all.