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Laurel's been throwing herself into her work, almost to the point of exhaustion. The shop is open longer holiday hours, but she decided against hiring extra employees, not trusting herself to have the energy to train anyone. Even when it's closed, she's often there, tending to all the hundred and one things that needed to be done by the day before. She stays late to set up the window display for the holidays; she comes early to do the bookkeeping.
She knows the emotions will pass, eventually. She hopes the dreams will. She's blocked the conversation she had with Gary, doesn't even remember it anymore. It's the beginning of the holidays, she runs a shop, and with luck, she'll be too exhausted for anything else. At least for the time being.
Laurel's locking up the shop for the night, bundled against the now pronounced chill in the air. It's dark, but the streetlights illuminate her whole way home, and she likes that she lives close enough to walk. She tries to relax, as she heads home; when she was there so much, she really should leave work at work.