There were plenty of excuses she could have made—they had never really talked about anything besides art theft, they might not have anything else to talk about, she had so much to do—but even as Alex thought them through, she was sweeping her things into her backpack, pulling out her phone to respond. The prospect of being at work any longer, as her coworkers continued to trickle out, as the sun set and the days and the years kept passing— How about sooner?
