Meanwhile, the opposite was occurring in Jordan; her worries and frustration were steadily rising, each feeding the other into a silent anger that chipped at her ability to keep a cool head. She'd eventually stopped pacing and crouched down in front of a folded table, holding her knees to her torso as she ignored the childish urge to scream and physically lash out.

Duncan's voice snapped her attention away -- at least, for the moment -- and she lifted her head to look at him. Her eyes narrowed at the cloths on the floor, but she got up and walked over, looking as if she might cry at any minute. (She wouldn't.)