I stand up, the booklet falling on the table with a thud and I walk towards the sliding doors to the balcony. I shut them behind me and I hold the banisters, my head hung low and I close my eyes tightly, willing myself not to cry.
It's all too much. It's all too sudden.
She has orchestrated it all, I know it. I can know her work when I see it and I don't know it's if it's the way she had already done all this while I was still in the hopes that she was willing to fight for her life or the fact that she doesn't want to take credit for her work.
Her whole life, who she is as a woman. She is the most powerful woman in the world, in my books and I know in the world she would be seen so too, but she doesn't want to be seen, she doesn't want to be heard and that just makes it all so heartbreaking.
