“That sounds like you.”
“It’s paperwork.”
“Of course.”
He started to leave.
“The scholarship cleared.”
I looked up.
“Good.”
“First payment Monday.”
“Then Monday is fine.”
He waited.
“You can go home.”
“So can you.”
“I will.”
He left the door open.
I walked to the window.
For years, I had believed there would eventually be one document that made Julian understand me.
One contract.
One ownership register.