No Evelyn.
No Julian.
No board.
No camera.
I left it crooked.
My phone buzzed on the counter.
Arthur.
One sentence.
Scholarship payment confirmed for Monday.
I typed:
Good.
Then put the phone facedown.
Not because I feared the next message.
Because I was finished with it for the evening.
I carried the mug back to my executive office.
The small chip caught beneath my thumb.
On the desk sat the scholarship authorization.
Beside it: