The city let them have a quiet night.
They left the hospital before the evening news put names to the day. The air had that clean bite after rain. Streetlights shivered on the pavement. Emilia watched the glow slide along the car windows and decided to take it as a good omen.
“Orsi tomorrow,” Nora said in their ears. “I’ve mapped two routes in and four out. I’ll sit on the grey case keys until you say go.”
“Sleep,” Emilia told her.
“I’ll pretend,” Nora said, and clicked off.
The penthouse felt warmer than she remembered. Rafael checked the rooms like always, then stopped at the window. The city spread itself at their feet. He said nothing. She didn’t need him to.
“Tea?” she asked.
He looked back at her. “If you want it.”
She turned on the kettle. The small sounds—the hiss, the clic
