“I’ll call the pilot and let him know when to expect us. I’ll have the car ready in an hour.” I nod absently. I rest my forearms on my desk and turn them over to stare at the palms of my hands. Hands that are covered in blood. Her blood. I still see her body lying in the middle of the bed. Pale. Cold. The red sheets that, only hours earlier, had shone a bright white. I clench my fists as though I can wring the blood out of them. Like usual, it doesn’t work. It’s still there. Mocking me. Reminding me.
