Chapter 2

She came back the following Saturday.

Ten am. Same robe. Same table. Same warm room and low music. She lay face down in the headrest and heard the door open at five past ten and felt him come into the room the way she had felt him last week — his presence, specific and immediately recognizable.

"Morning," he said.

"Morning," she said into the headrest.

"Same focus as last time?"

"Please."

He set his things down and she heard the oil warming in his hands and his hands found her shoulders and she exhaled immediately.

He worked the way he had worked last week — focused, unhurried, precise....