Eleanor turned on the faucet.

“It’s already done, Vivian.

The board accepted your temporary resignation this morning.”

At a quarter to five, I carried a stack of forwarded charity mail into the library.

Julian sat at his mahogany desk filing quarterly tax disclosures.

The brass desk clock ticked loud and steady.

I set the envelopes down next to his black indelible ink pad.

The heavy rubber signature stamp lay beside a silver letter opener in his open top right drawer.