“I still have a lot more work to do, Tina. I’ll be home when I can,” Bette started. Tina started feeling old habits emerging on the other end of the line. She could feel Bette stressing over an all nighter already as she looked at Angelica in her rocker.

“You promised Angie you’d read to her tonight,” Tina protested hoping she might relent. Bette sighed.

“I think she’ll forgive me if I only miss one night, Ti. I’ll be home soon,” Bette answered. Tina gave up, said she’d see her soon and hung up. Bette walked through the rooms that currently displayed the Fall Collection. She trapsed past the tables being built, and the displays being assembled for a few pieces that had already been prepared. The CAC, despite the obstacles Franklin and the rest of the board were giving her, was really going all out for their Egyptian themed collection.

In the low light room Bette walked past a pedestal of green light. The statue was so out of place among all the acient artifacts strewn about the room. It was clearly not Egyptian but had come with the shipment of artifacts as the array of restoration tools suggested. The statue depicted two warriors in Roman battlement gear. One warrior was holding the other in his arms carrying him across an imaginary battlefield, the other warrior evidently having been hit by a mortal wound.

“I thought you might like that one,” Harold’s voice came softly from behind her. Bette turned and saw him approach slowly from the archway.

“It’s beautiful, but clearly not a part of the rest of the exhibit,” Bette pointed out. Harold came to a stop next to her and rubbed his chin.

“No, no it’s not. I uh had that one flown out especially. It’s one of those things you just have to have,” Harold said. His hand fell away and he locked gaze on the statue. “Tell me what you think? I’d love you’re opnion,” Harold asked.

Bette stared at the statue for a while. “Well, my first inclination would be showing a brave warrior carrying his fallen comrade off the battlefield, but I feel like there is something more to it,” she stated. She stuck out her hand and pointed, untouching and unwavering at the statue. “The face, it looks more solemn and hurt then brave and stoic.”