@the-great-marsh
When Rose is released on parole a miraculously few months later, naturally Oleana is there to receive him. She arrives in a discreet Corviknight taxi and spends the entire flight fidgeting-- first with her phone, then with her bracelet-- and trying to will herself not to feel so anxious. Filled with nervous energy, she finds herself mentally double and triple-checking the conditions of his release, almost obsessively. Heavy surveillance, medications, mandatory therapy sessions. Terms mappable by time blocks in a calendar. Neat boxes in neat rows.
It was only three months. No need to be dramatic. Surely the structure will be good for him.
By the time he exits the doors to meet her, she is the very picture of calm, expression placid as ever and her hands folded neatly before her. She is reserved and professional, like nothing has changed; if nothing else, she can at least try to provide him with something familiar with which to anchor himself. She doesn’t dare breach the distance between them with any touch, as if afraid it might make him disappear again (such would be inappropriate anyway now, where others could still see, even if she were bolder and less uncertain), though her eyes search him greedily, studying him.
“Hello, Mr. Rose,” she manages to say in her usual soothing monotone. “It’s very good to see you again.”