“I was working late.”
Different wrist.
No. Mark doesn’t wear a watch.
Lena’s throat closed. She’d bought him that watch last week. For their anniversary. The receipt was still in her purse.
Downstairs, the building’s front door clicked shut.
A long silence. Then the sound of his keys—the heavy jangle of the front door set. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “There isn’t. Not anymore.”
“There is no one,” she sobbed.
“I was working late.”
Different wrist.
No. Mark doesn’t wear a watch.
Lena’s throat closed. She’d bought him that watch last week. For their anniversary. The receipt was still in her purse.
Downstairs, the building’s front door clicked shut.
A long silence. Then the sound of his keys—the heavy jangle of the front door set. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “There isn’t. Not anymore.”
“There is no one,” she sobbed.
