Carl had brought the wrong coat.
Mara understood that only afterward. At first she saw him come through the office with a stack of folded blankets, looking pleased to have carried something that did not require anyone to inspect his hands. His coat was dark green, the collar turned up against the morning wind. He had put on work gloves to move the blankets from storage.
Elise watched him pass the desk.
Then she hit him.
The sound was small. The blankets were between them, and her fist struck his mouth through a corner of wool. He staggered into the wall rather than falling. One glove caught the register’s stand and knocked a receipt tray onto the floor.
“No,” she said.
Carl lifted an arm over his face.
“Elise!” Mara came around the desk, scattering receipts with her shoes. “Stop.”
