The department was already half-full when Noel got back.
He heard them before he fully stepped through the door. It didn't stop. It just changed register, dropping from open conversation to the quieter, more careful kind.
He had heard it before. He had learned to do nothing with it.
He walked to the desk.
Maria was on the other side of it — or rather, just beyond it, angled toward a small hand mirror she had propped against a stack of ledgers, touching up the colour at her lips with the careful concentration.
She was wearing dark brown today, a high-collared blouse with small buttons down the front and a matching skirt, practical shoes, her light brown hair pinned up with a few strands already escaping at the temples.
He raised a hand as he approached.
She saw him in the mirror first — her eyes flicked to his reflection — and then she turned.
The excitement appeared on her face. She recapped the lip colour and set it down.
"Good morning," she said.
