Kieran called Renata at six in the evening, and Noa sat in the chair across from his desk and listened to one side of a conversation that felt, even from half its distance, like watching someone carefully dismantle a structure they'd spent years building without being entirely sure what would be left standing when it came down.
He didn't open with an accusation. That surprised her, though it probably shouldn't have by now, since she'd watched him navigate enough dangerous conversations to understand that his first move was almost never the obvious one. He opened with Gregor's name, simply, flatly, the way he opened everything that mattered, and then he waited.
The silence on Renata's end lasted long enough that Noa could hear it from across the desk, a silence with weight and texture, th
