Before leaving the office, Young opened the photograph Denise had taken during their breakfast stop on Route 9.
It showed two cups on a table, sunlight on the window, and a stretch of ordinary road beyond the glass.
Young placed the photograph back in the drawer.
She put on her coat, switched off the light, and walked toward the elevator.
The next morning would bring more questions.
People in Crestwood would still need answers from institutions that had failed them.
For that reason, Young did not want the last word to belong to a title, a badge, or a judge’s gavel.
She wanted it to belong to a person who could speak without first asking whether anyone powerful would permit it.
At the Route 9 bus stop, Ruth Delaney stepped beneath the shelter and shook snow from her scarf.
Thomas pulled the bus to the curb and opened the door.
“Still here?” he asked with a smile.
Ruth climbed aboard and tapped her fare card.
“Still here,” she answered.
The doors closed behind her.
The bus moved forward into the falling snow.
The End.
