A miner, they went, gone away and returned again, a careful pause on every word. A miner, they went, living with someone different. Someone who wandered through the city looking as if he'd never seen anything like it before. Not lost, she was told, but like it was all brand new. She didn't care about that; country-bred souls always saw the city that way. But the miner and those pauses--she asked discreetly, delicately, and the miner's name was one she knew, the place where he lived familiar. She steepled her fingers together when she heard that and then nodded once, decision made. "Wait," she told the person standing in front of her. "Watch." She didn't ask if she was understood. When she spoke, people listened. *** Alec came home from the mines, face drawn tight with exhaustion and something else. He kept his head bowed as he shrugged off his coat, shook his head when David asked if he wanted to eat. "I'm tired," he said and stepped carefully around him. "Alec--" David said, and when Alec looked back at him he wouldn't meet his eyes.
