Heather wouldn"t look up from the clutter of manila folders, printed emails, scrap paper and sticky notes on her desk as the man in the shabby work coat wheeled in the last of the boxes.
Her sullen manner made the man awkward. He stacked the boxes on the floor beside the others in forced silence.
"All yours," he said on his way out.
Only then did she lift her gaze. Sitting tall, craning, stabbing at the air, she counted one hundred boxes. They took up half the floor space in her already crowded office, fanning out in front of her desk, squashed against the wall below the window, and stacked untidily beside the longer wall that supported a low bench along its length.
She wasn"t given to rudeness. Her eyes were all puffy and red from last night"s tears and they still burned from those sh
