Noa didn't sleep that night. Not because she couldn't, though sleep had been elusive enough since this whole situation began that its absence had stopped feeling remarkable, but because the framework she'd built in Renata's sitting room had solidified on the drive back into something urgent and specific, a shape she could see clearly enough that stopping felt like losing it before she'd had a chance to make it real on paper.
She was at her desk by midnight, the office empty around her, the floor quiet in the particular way it got after ten when even Dmitri's people reduced to a skeleton presence, security cameras and two rotating staff rather than the full operational weight of a working day. Kieran had tried to convince her to start in the morning, reasonably, calmly, in the voice he use
