"I'm not telling."With a small shriek, Sarah pulled away. "That's not fair! Tell me what you got!" No," he said, and started to pick his way down the ...tairs, over the clots of boots and shoes. With every step, melted snow squished from the carpet and soaked his socks. He kept an eye out for his boots but didn't see them; probably at the bottom of the pile in the garage.Sarah started after him, and then stopped. Richard was down there. Then she thought, Fuck Richard!The music blaring from the. But it didn't matter. Or, at least I told myself it didn't matter.I guess that's why I didn't back away from Dawney's suggestion — even though maybe I should have. Joe always seems pleased to get home and sorry to leave, but in between? I very much needed to keep myself busy.Dawney encouraged me into pursuing a PhD and helped me choose a research area. I shouldn't have agreed to take on something that was so close to Dawney's own area, but I needed a supervisor and the professor had always been. More

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