*Julia*The door closed behind her with a soft, and careful click. But the sound seemed to hang in her ears. Suddenly absurdly loud for such a small ordinary thing. But it did. It rang and rang through her long after the latch had settled into its plate. The brass knob uncoiled to the right position. And the wood groaned back into its frame. Each sound, normally forgettable, overlooked even, now marked themselves through her with new value. Heavier and meaningful echoes through the corridor. Then the voices bubbled up once more.Julia could hear it slip from under the seams of the door and crawl up her back. Belinda's cadence. Bratha's heavy accent in answering the rumble. A conversation resumed. Picking up its rhythm low and shapeless, it was robbed of their words by the thickness of the oak, but unmistakable all the same. As though nothing had happened at all.Then the small, bright clink of porcelain being lifted from a saucer.Competently. With hands too young to shake. Too fi
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