And then, somewhere in the middle of a sentence, the technician stopped talking.

Martha noticed it the way you notice a clock you had not known was ticking only once it stops.

The easy patter ended.

The technician’s eyes had fixed on the monitor, and her free hand had gone still, and then she began to work with a different quality of attention altogether — moving the wand slowly, pressing keys to capture image after image, her face composed into the deliberate blankness of a professional who has decided not to let her expression say anything at all.

After a few minutes she straightened, and smiled a smile that did not quite reach the rest of her face, and said she was just going to step out for a moment and have someone take a look.