There was nothing she could do. She knew that.
But still her mind raced, full of "what ifs?" and "maybes?". Futile ideas, straws to be grasped and crushed and discarded, instantly replaced by yet another desperate idea.
The clock ticked, slow and deliberate, mocking her pretence at patience.
This was madness!
She should not have come. Not today, probably not ever.
Still the clock ticked on.
Dear God! How she hated the waiting.