(Rose)
Before I knew it, I found myself standing outside the large brick warehouse I had been daring to avoid. The front entrance seemed to be decorated for the more notable clients. The windows, cleaned to perfection, were lined with a pale yellow fabric. My hand felt the coolness of the brass handle against my skin as I opened the door.
I could see why they chose yellow. The sunlight that found its way inside seemed to intensify with the hue. A few mirrors added to the effect as they reflected the surrounding room. A desk rested near the back and I found a young woman look up at me with a smile. She wore a classy, but simple skirt and shirt set. The blue went well with the yellows. My hands were shaking.
"Can I help you?"
I gripped the broken object in my hand tighter.
"I need to see a Mr. Calvert, please." I could hear the urgency in my own voice. The woman seemed to grow concerned. "John Calvert."
"I think he might have left already," she replied cautiously. "If you'll wait here just a minute, I can go check for you. May I have a name?"
"Rose Daw…" I paused mid-way. The name had become so common from my lips. "DeWitt Bukater. Rose DeWitt Bukater." I could practically see her smile become forced.
As she disappeared behind a back door I found myself focusing on a rather plain pen that sat on the desk. I could do this. My heart didn't seem to be able to slow down.
……………………………………
Rachael paused just after the door closed behind her. She leaned against the back as confusion began to overwhelm. Rose. The name had haunted her nearly ever day since John had spoken of it. A piece of his past was waiting out there, waiting to crush what ever hopes she still retained. It practically was smothering even as she looked down the narrow hall that led to the warehouse.
"May the good Lord forgive me for what I am about to do," she whispered softly, making the sign of the cross. With quick determination she set off into the busy shipment expanse.