Page 293 of Ruthless Court

Hannah stops breathing for half a second.

I look at her.

Her eyes shine behind the tortoiseshell frames.

She blinks quickly.

Once.

Twice.

Then swipes one finger beneath her left eye.

She thinks I don’t notice.

I get up.

Her head turns.

“Where are you going?”

I point toward the coffee counter and keep moving.

There’s a stack of brown napkins beside the sugar.

I take several.

Then grab two more because apparently crying requires planning.

When I return, I don’t say anything.

I place them on her knee.

Hannah looks down.

Then up at me.

“I’m not crying.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

“My contact is irritated.”

“You’re wearing glasses.”

She presses her lips together.

I face the stage.

“Could be a very emotional astigmatism.”

She elbows me.

Softly.

One napkin disappears into her hand.

I pretend not to notice.