The letter that had reached him was polite, succinct, and impersonal, as though they weren't intimately familiar with Oz and all of the details of his wife's disappearance — as if he hadn't been at the secretary's desk four times in the past week. He hadn't been since the news broke on Saturday, because he couldn't think of what to say to them. This whole thing was so undignified; he was embarrassed on Sina's behalf for her having been involved in it, although obviously it wasn't as though she'd chosen it. Still, he needed some time to wrap his mind around it before he could think of what to say, so he'd taken a day off from being obnoxious (there were very few people to be obnoxious to on a Sunday, anyway) and by Monday morning, there was news.

He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest when she finally emerged from the room. His shoulders were tense, because part of him was worried that if he didn't have tension holding him still when she reappeared then the sight of her might make him fall apart, and obviously he couldn't allow that. Imagine if the same staff he'd been harassing for weeks saw him getting emotional at the sight of his wife. His self-image would never recover, and nevermind what people would think if anyone got to talking, as people always did.

"Well, I had the investigator looking for a woman," he responded, voice nearly a snarl. "I didn't expect you to go feral. At least, not so quickly."

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