A year went by. Two. She learned to relish the small tasks, the routine, the silence. Especially the silence. It was a rare library patron who allowed...a cell-phone to ring in Theresa’s domain more than once. Her imperious, “Shh,” accompanied by an icy glare, was enough to wither any speech above a whisper. She made it clear that within her domain any sound louder than that of a page being turned was distinctly unwelcome. She was therefore was less than thrilled when a well-off patron went to. "Got one!" Don walked behind him, looking down at the screen. "Cargo ship sending out a distress signal. It has pressure but no gravity, they're asking for an evac." Perfect." Don went back and sat in his chair. "Let's hear the signal." ... day, Mayday! Core breached! This is the cargo ship Hanson! Eight crew still alive! Mayday!" Don signaled to Rich, already donning a communication headset."Hanson, we have heard your Mayday! We're close but cannot dock. Please use your escape craft and we. More

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