He was scrambling.
Trying to pick words out of the air like out-of-season fruit.
Scanning the hallway for a lost & found where the perfect phrase was waiting to be borrowed.
He needed to find something to slide under her, to soften her inevitable and terrible fall.
She was searching.
Rummaging through the strewn files along the floors of her mind.
Hunting her memory for the tracks he made to lead her to now.
She wanted to sink beneath the...