Kate loved her with an intensity that sometimes surprised her, even after all these years.
"You say that about every dig," Kate pointed out.
"And you're always right. They're all important."
"But this one—"
"Is different. I know."
Kate reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Martha's ear.
"You don't have to convince me, Martha. You never do. When you get that look in your eyes, like you're seeing something the rest of us can't, I know you need to go. I just wish..."
She trailed off, but Martha heard the unspoken words. I wish you could stay. I wish we had more time together. I wish your work didn't take you so far away.
"I wish that too," Martha said softly.
"But you know I can't ignore this. It's like an itch in my brain. The data is all there, pointing to something extraordinary, and if I don't investigate, someone else will. Someone who might not understand what they're looking at, who might damage or destroy evidence before they realize its significance."
