17
EBONY
Ebony sat on the outdoor couch on the upstairs balcony looking over the Norfolk Island Pines to the bay. The notebooks were next to her. She hadn’t looked at them since Brad left last night, deciding to dedicate the morning to poring over their pages. But she would finish her coffee first and take in the view's serenity.
From where she sat, the sea looked like a sheet of blue Perspex: flat, serene, unmoving. The pines, usually being jostled by a sea breeze at the very least, were holding their own. There were container ships off in the distance that looked as if painted onto the background. She couldn’t tell if they were moving.
Picking up the first book on the pile, she wondered if it had been difficult for Detective Sanderson to get them out of her apartment. She felt guilty
