III
9.36 am
NO one's dropped a ton of bricks onto her but she feels just as numb or worse. She feels so cold.
Sitting on her office, she remembers dying.
"Morning, Linda. Coffee?" Svartman says as he passes.
She shakes her head, mechanically. As if in a dream.
"Tea, please."
10.10 am
EVEN if Wallander is really upset about it, seconds later she can't really recall if the missing papers were on his desk or on Holgersson's, or if there are any missing papers at all.
The walls of the meeting room gleam like bleached, but should the incandescent light be bothering her like that?
It feels like a hangover, but Linda doesn't remember drinking. She remembers the sleeping pills, but in a subsidiary, dazed kind of fashion, because all she can think of is that, across her, sits like any other day Stefan Lindman.
She can't understand. She'll be sick. She feels like she'll be sick. Precisely like she can't cope.
He catches her staring, she gets a playful smirk.
Two minutes later she's excused herself and run out of the room, and she's lucky she's got to the bathroom in time, because at
10.13 am
she's thrown up the breakfast she didn't have. But God bless Svartman.
11.00 am
Her eyes are empty while she pretends to look at the computer screen, wondering when it is she'll cleanse enough for this sick nightmare to end.
From the desk in front of hers, Stefan waves and his brow creases slightly when she doesn't really react. But, talking about him, when has she ever?
"Hey, Linda, are you with us?" he asks, not serious, but not jesting either.
"I'm here," she answers, cryptic, more to convince herself. "But why are you?"
11.04 am
"Why wouldn't I be…?"
He studies her for a minute.
"Are you alright, Linda?"
11.05 am
"I am. Had a bad dream, is all."
.
A/N:
If you're reading, know that reviews help me know how much of this is understandable.
Be fine!