Grief hangs in the air quietly. Silently.

I remember Sarah saying "I love the rain!" a comment that was generally met with approval.

I've always liked the rain since I was a kid. Home alone just watching it roll off my roof on a cool morning before school.

But now it hangs in te air. If only Sarah hadn't said it so much I might not have heard it roll off.

I pause the cd player.

Pretend to pour over my novel. I guess everyone thinks thats my way of managing grief. As I'm about to find out it really is in 1 month from then...

They talk about the rain. About how it had affected the humidity. 3 days straight of rain. Affected resistances. Affected the temp.

Then they talk about how they tried to fix things. Picking new chems. Even when they knew the risk.

It was all about giving her a moment of relief.

But it turned out this way.

As one of the decision makers finishes a brief summary of everything it seems everyone had stopped all they were doing.

There was no typing.

No sudden movements.

No tapping.

No page flipping from me.

Just the gentle chopping of the fan, the whrring of my cd player keeping the cd in perpetual motion.

A laugh from a kid from the other side breaks the silence.

But it hangs in the air.

Did we kill her? No one answers. Because we can't. But then again we did our best to soothe the pain.