The sun was beginning to descend rapidly; Linda could tell by the lengthening sunbeam that left a pale ray on her battered couch. She glared at her mobile phone. In an hour and a half she would have to head over to the community theater to drop off her preliminary sketches for sets with the director there. There was no art class that night, and she was deeply grateful for that. The thought of stepping outside seemed to make her bones turn to lead. A copy of Worldwide News and Affairs was on the floor by the couch, folded open at her deceitful interview. She had scanned it once and could not bring herself to look at it again. The smudged ink and even columns were yet another sign that she was digging herself deeper in her battle against Light. Each step she took made turning back harder.
Her phone buzzed with a text message. It was from Dave, a simple "Wanted to check in, make sure we were still on for tomorrow night." Linda took a deep breath. There had been a few coffee meetings since