but sweat still shone along his forehead.
She pointed toward the chair.
“Sit.”
He did not understand the word, but he understood her hand.
He sat.
Rosalietook the notebook.
I need to look again.
His eyes remained on the old receipt.
Finally he nodded.
She washed the tweezers once more, held the lamp close, and examined the damaged canal without touching the metallic edge.
The black creature in the bowl had stopped moving.
Rosalie studied it more carefully now.
It looked like some sort of fly larva, probably drawn into
