Finally, the secretary’s voice rang out. “Mrs. Greene? Diane? You may go in now.” Carol rose too quickly, chair legs scraping against the floor. Diane snorted softly at her mother’s clumsiness, but Carol barely noticed. The hallway stretched before her, endless, each step echoing like footsteps from her youth.
The office was cooler than the corridor. Bookshelves lined the walls, and a neat desk sat at the center. A single photograph faced inward, hidden. Carol’s eyes darted to it, but before she could study it, the door closed behind them with a soft, decisive click.