had depended on somebody discovering his success and looking ashamed.
He had not brought that version of the night with him.
Mrs. Carter was beside the coffee urn, studying a sugar packet as though the print had personally betrayed her. Her green glasses cord had been replaced by a blue one.
Evan stopped a few feet away.
“Still making people finish the forms?” he asked.
She looked up. For a second, she searched his face. Then she put the cup down so quickly it rattled against the saucer.“Evan.”
She
