Vanessa was already at the wooden counter, stuffing her gold compact and makeup brushes back into her oversized leather shoulder bag.

Her arms were pressed tight to her ribs, her right heel drumming a steady, impatient beat on the linoleum.

When she reached across the counter for her coffee mug, her elbow snagged the heavy strap of the bag.

It slid off the edge and hit the floor with a loud thump.

The brass clasp sprang open.

A thick bundle of folded papers slid out and fanned across the faded linoleum.

I came over from the stove and picked up the sheet nearest my boot.