Sara's Game
“Bennett was there waiting for her. It was quiet and empty, as well, except for a late-twenties guy with a goatee, hipster glasses, and a flannel shirt. The typical Portland uniform. He glanced up at her, shot out of his seat. “Mrs. Winthrop?” he asked.She rushed up to the counter, knocked over the stack of mail. He tried to greet her as a volley of questions flew out of her mouth. Uncontained. Unrestrained. “Are you Dave? Have you found him yet? Where is everyone? Are they all out looking? Do you guys have any idea where he is?”He scratched his cheek, then ran a hand across his shaved head. She asked, “You don’t, do you?” and the realization fell from overhead like a dropped piano. “You idiots. How could you let this happen?”Dave appeared to know that this would be coming. In a calm, apologetic tone, one that sounded like it took no offense at the accusation or insult, he said, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Winthrop. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this must be, and I won’t... patronize you by telling you to calm down. That would be stupid—”“Damn right it would be stupid,”MoreLess
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