We don't all know each other, (she says witheringly and sits back in her chair, pressing her spine against the wood so it makes her as straight-backed as possible. She has a passing thought — that her mother, who ingrained this habit into her, might nod in approval if she could see this — then remembers how many letters she has sent to home (many) and how many she has had back (none).
Lacing her hands together, she rests them on her desk.
no subject
Lacing her hands together, she rests them on her desk.
Begrudgingly,) But I do recognise the name, yes.
What about her?