She got up, came around the desk, and held the door open with her hip.

I got as far as saying her name before she stepped back inside and pulled it closed.

The door struck the frame hard enough to rattle her nameplate.

Liam Brennan slid the shoebox across his desk and loosened the twine with a brass letter opener, one strand at a time.

“I would have brought this to you sooner,” he said.

“Charles left instructions about the order things were to happen in.”