Walk. As though what she was doing could be called walking. She lurched into the meeting already flustered by the difficulty of navigating the elevator and doors while carrying her briefcase and maneuvering her crutches. The only thing worse would have been showing up in a wheelchair. She bore the pitying look on Kevin’s face when she came through the door by biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood. He got to his feet when she pushed the door open, but it was her lawyer Reginald Perry who held the door for her and helped her get to her seat. The pressure of Kevin’s fingertips against the glass tabletop left expanding circles of moisture. “Tov.” One small word, made so important by the waver in his voice. It was the first time they’d been in the same room since the day they’d signed the mediation papers. She’d seen him once after that, looking at her through the glass of an observation room at the Sisters of Mercy Hospital. He’d turned away from her then.
