For Roseanne, that was a rare opportunity.

"If you're interested, you can take this back and have a look." He pulled out a flash drive and laid it before her, "It contains all the experiment details."

Roseanne looked up, her bright eyes sparkling with excitement. "Thanks, I'll give it some thought."

By ten o'clock, it was about time for Roseanne to head home.

Owen walked her to the door.

"I just live across the hallway. You don't have to walk me out," Roseanne said with a chuckle.

Yet, Owen glanced at her inadvertently exposed finger, gently reminding her, "You shouldn't keep that band-aid on for too long. Clean it with the iodine, and it's best to let it breathe."

Roseanne instinctively curled her index finger, "Thanks. I'll remember that."

Owen didn't say much more, just nodded slightly, then turned to pick up a small pot of pink succulents. "This is for you."

admiring the palm-sized plant with its chubby leaves that faded

and noticed there was just one left, so I picked it up. Consider it a thank you for that fish dinner you treated me to last time." Roseanne smiled. "I'll accept it then. But really, we're friends. You don't need to be so formal next time. There's no need

clear night

soft

...

a visit to

that resembled care and precision. "Murray, don't say I don't look out for you. Guess what I've got you here? Blueberry

something light. had my chef get up early to make this. Don't be fooled by its modest look. It's full of nutrients to have you

at York's smiling face, barely suppressing a smirk, wondering if York was there to deliver

knew well enough that Murray wasn't fond of soups except for the stomach-soothing oatmeal Roseanne used to

It tastes weird! Where did you find this chef? Can't even

expressionless. "Then you

the oatmeal, is it? My chef's a big, tough guy, and he just doesn't match up to a sweet girlfriend cooking you oatmeal with love, right? Oh,@ight,

Weet

Cliff coughed violently, trying

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