RILEY
I thought about it for two weeks.
Not in the way where you lose track of things — I kept working, took the twins to school, handled a full bay of work including a restoration that Mara had already invoiced ahead of actual completion, which was Mara's way of creating accountability through aggressive paperwork. I thought while I worked, which was when I did my best thinking, the physical task and the mental task running parallel on separate tracks.
What I landed on was this: I was angry. Not devastated, not grieving in the way I might have expected — I'd never known this man, couldn't miss someone I didn't have. But I was angry in a specific, clear-eyed way, the anger of someone who has just understood that a thing was taken and they didn't know it was being taken at the time.
My
