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Randall sat in his office and revised the notes for today’s Saturday evening broadcast of The Hour. It was about noon, and he had just caught his thoughts drifting away, wondering how Lix was doing and if they were having lunch right now, when the phone rang. He picked up the receiver. “Brown?“ There was no one on the other end. Or was there? “Hello? Brown. Who’s there?” There was some noise in the background, but he had no idea what it could be. And then, he heard a tiny sob. It had been so soft, nearly not audible, but it had been there. And he immediately recognized it, although – or perhaps because – he had never heard it before. “Lix?” He asked, his heart racing, thinking about possible scenarios that would end up with Lix… crying. “Lix? Are you okay?” There was a crackling noise and then, the line went dead. She had hung up. Randall stared at the receiver. Lix. She was always so composed. Even when she had received the terrible news of Sophia’s death… yes, there had been tears in her eyes, she hadn’t been able to move for a moment, but she kept it together, while he broke down in a fit of rage and sorrow, leaving him a helpless, sobbing mess at his own desk.