Tracey Kibre sat in the sepia shadows of her office. She watched as the last rays of a half-hearted sun traced lines of watery yellow along the wall. Somewhere out in the fading light of the city, Kelly Gaffney made her way home.
Tracey could almost see her, climbing the steep steps of the subway, or slowly walking the aisles of Zabar's. Could almost see her shrugging off the weight of her briefcase, dropping bonelessly onto her couch.
Could almost see her waiting for the someone that might one day walk through the front door. The someone that Tracey wished could be her.