“It’s gonna be late…” He hesitates, “I’m prepping for trial.” Giving her a way out. An excuse to walk away. And maybe a younger Amanda would have. Walked right out of his office door, walked down the street for a strong shot of something, maybe a cigarette. She says she quit years ago, but keeps a half pack in the depth of her purse for moments like these. It’s an older, wiser Amanda, one who is strong and independent but also maybe does need a man sometimes, who’s able to let a pinprick of her fear shine through her tough exterior like a searchlight against a stormy sky.
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