Most days Susan was quiet about herself, she was British everyone knew, and living with her current boyfriend - who she often commented on with his obsessive nature of Chinese take-out. But beyond that? Not too much else was known. It was the manager then, that whispered to the other two girls who had looked in on the break room.
"You know she lost her whole family in that train accident a few years back." "No. Really?"
"Really. They did an article after it happened, I found it when I googled her before we hired her on."
"Jesus Fucking Christ." "What do we do? Do you think she should-"
"Isn't Basil her boyfriend?"
"...Jesus Christ."
Susan heard none of this, in fact she had ended up somewhat crumpled to the floor- phone in hand, eyes attached to the television. They were showing bodies being pulled out again- families reunited, children covered in dust being wrapped in blankets. Her eyes searched each face for a familiar one, one that she knew- the only one she couldn't find.
It wasn't her manager that came over, but one of those gossiping co-workers, draping her own coat over Susan's shoulders the woman tried to whisper into her ear. "Come on Sue. Let's get you out of here. People are worrying."
Susan's eyes flashed for only a moment to the other woman, then back to the screen. They had a television back at the apartment, but that wasn't in the same direction as the subway line. It was south, and the subway was north- closer to Times Square, closer to his shop than Washington and her own. "No." She whispered in reply, pressing redial once again. Leaving the break-room would mean not watching the television, which would mean missing the chance to-
There! There it was!
A body was being loaded onto one of the dozen ambulances, a mask being pulled over an inert body. She knew those jeans, she knew that horrid hair that she was constantly teasing Basil to cut. She knew that body- Oh God. He was more than a body, he had to be.
The co-worker had to have seen it as well, for just as Susan started to tremble she moved herself between the woman and the television, blocking the view of the body- of Basil's ambulance doors shutting. If he was being taken on an ambulance already, they both knew it wouldn't be for bumps or scrapes or shock. "Come on Sue. We're getting a cab."