“What is this?”
She stood in the doorway. With the light beaming in through the window from the hall behind her, I could only make out her silhouette. As my eyes focused, I could see that she was holding something in her fingers. It was a piece of paper.
I held my tongue and tried to gauge her body language. She was tense. Nervous. Was she holding her breath? I did not recognize it, and I did not want to imagine what it might be. She seemed to be holding it up accusingly. Any reaction would unleash her fury. I was curious, but far too aware to step into such an obvious trap. Any misplay would would cost me dearly.