He turned his back to me and walked down the hall toward the locked office door.

The brass bolt clicked loudly as he turned the key from inside.

I stood next to the sofa in the fading afternoon light.

My hand stayed open and flat, raised halfway into the air between us.

I looked down at the pale skin of my palm where the soft blue card had been lying five minutes earlier.

My hand was totally empty.

He left through the kitchen door without saying another word, letting the heavy dead bolt snap shut behind him.