Robert left after breakfast.
Not awkwardly. Not warmly either. With the particular civility of people who have said real things the night before and are still working out what to do with them in the morning light.
Breakfast was quieter than usual. Helena ate and observed in the way she observed everything, missing nothing and choosing what to comment on with the precision of someone who had learned that silence was often more useful than words. Robert asked Mrs. Park about the coffee in a way that was clearly a compliment. Mrs. Park received it with her usual professional nod.
Damien ate and said little.
I ate and watched and thought about what Robert had told me in the garden.
A man who learned at nine that people leave.
I looked at Damien across the table. The set jaw. The careful
