It was too early for such a horrendous piece of bad news. She got up, trying to process it. It felt unreal. It couldn't be.

She couldn't bear it alone.

She acted on impulse. She was out the door, making for the street before she even knew what she was doing, where she was going.

When she reached the intersection, she saw that other person, the one she specifically had felt compelled to run to, coming up to meet her there.

That is when she knew for sure she had not made up the whole storyline.