Karl’s POVThe next morning, Estelle appeared in my office doorway holding two paper cups from the coffee place she liked, the one that put too much foam on everything.“Thought you could use this,” she said lightly, setting one on my desk.“Thanks,” I said, surprised.She sat down in the chair across from me and crossed her legs and wrapped both hands around her cup.“Yesterday was rough. The showcase.”“Yeah.”“I’m sorry I made a scene.”“Don’t be. That guy deserved it.”Estelle blew on her coffee and took a careful sip. “Still. It probably made things worse for you.”“You defended me,” I said quietly, turning my cup in a slow circle on the desk. “No one’s done that in a long time.”She looked at me over the rim of her cup and her eyes were tired but warm, and she said,“You’ve defended me enough times. We’re in this together, right?”“Right,” I agreed hoarsely. “Together.”She smiled—small, grateful, genuine—and stood up and squeezed my shoulder on her way out and said she’d see me
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