I folded the Denver owner’s polite letter and put it back in my desk drawer.

I wiped down the laminate counter in the clinic break room while Sarah poured herself a second cup of coffee.

She set her ceramic mug on the table and opened a plastic container of leftover lasagna.

I sat down across from her and unfolded the Wednesday edition of the Kearney Hub.

The break room smelled of old coffee grounds and the harsh lemon disinfectant we used on the green vinyl chairs.

Outside the window, a harsh north wind rattled the bare cottonwood trees in the parking lot.