Ethan
The door closes, and the sound… is sharp, final.
I stare at it for a few more seconds… as if I could still see them on the other side. As if Clara were going to come back immediately and say that this was all just a bad moment, a bad coincidence.
But no, she is not coming back. And now... I'm alone.
Alone in that room that shouldn't feel so alien... but it does.
I exhale slowly, running a hand over my face.
"It's okay" I murmur to myself.
But it's not okay, none of this is.
I walk a few steps inside the room, slowly. No hurry. As if by moving I could also order what I have in my head.
My gaze returns to the balcony, to that table, open papers, notes, graphs, figures.
I get closer, I don't touch anything at first. I just watch.
Clara was really working. It is not an excuse.
