"Ah." They'd stepped out from the dim and into the light -- make your own symbolism, please and thank you -- and he stopped, turned. Elizabeth put on the brakes so hard that when Leonard glanced her way, she was rocking on her heels, deciding where to find her balance.
She let him look. May've dodged that kind of study once -- it smacked heavy of their father and his own coolness, that relentless seeking out the source of their collective Catholic shame -- but to what end now? Why bother dodging it? So she looked back unblinking, thought oh, Leo, how'd we get to be so fucking old? and let it play out. Never mind the sensation that she'd just been through the same does-she-pass-muster with the girl in the hall. Let Leo look. It was better than being ridden right over.
"You realize that doesn't actually mean anything to me." But she shrugged, waved it off. He could have his privacy. Lizzie was patient, despite what their family may've believed. She knew how to wait, if it meant getting what she wanted. She'd continue following him from footpath to hall and back again, hefting boxes to remove bricks from the wall one by one.