Torvan Clemens swept a hand over his brow as he slumped down onto the chair behind his desk. The desk was not a power play, as many would often imagine, but he found a certain security in sitting there, particularly after a day such as the one he had just endured. Warm sunlight spilled through the little window in the corner, gradually turning orange with the approach of evening and the time that he would be able to clock out, but as he sat there, he felt unsure that he’d be able to do it --be able to leave, that is, with a clear conscience. If he did manage to leave, he knew with grim certainty that sleep would elude him that night.
He listened to the sound of a group walking by on the street, a cluster of teens laughing out loud to something he hadn’t heard. He wondered how fast the rumors had spread. Did everyone in town know already? What were they thinking? Were they going to lose sleep tonight as much as he was?
The fact of the matter was, with the exception of