I held the paper a moment longer. Until now I had taken it for nothing more than something someone had grabbed to scrawl a message on.
"Let me feel it," the doctor said, her voice quieter now, almost urgent. "Just let me feel it."
I slid the note across the desk. She took it at once, and every trace of the flirtation drained out of her face like someone had flipped a switch. Her playful smile vanished. Her eyes sharpened, focused, the flirtatious sparkle replaced by something serious and almost reverent.
Her fingers unfolded it carefully, almost reverently, like she was afraid it might come apart in her hands. The red hair fell forward as she leaned in, catching the sunlight from the narrow window behind her and turning it into strands of liquid copper. Her brow furrowed slightly, lips parting as she ran her fingertips slowly over the texture, feeling the weight, the slight roughness of the edges, the faint yellowing of the color.
