I’m in a room full of people who are under the impression they have my undivided attention, barking on about the negative budget variances. It’s always the negative budget variances.

But there on my screen – an unyielding barrier between me and them, between what is and what was – is her face. Ten years to the day is why it popped up. One of my favorites of her. A birthday. The curving smile through half pursed lips, and a hazy backlight framing her like a halo. Her hair was… lawless… but a perfection.

But it was her eyes, piercing and understanding. She could look right at me and know everything.

I made that cake. Looked like a five year old did it but she said it was splendid and I believed her. It was all right there in her smile. And those eyes.