Harrison stood alone in his study after Charlotte left. The door was still open a crack. The echo of the slap was still in the room. His cheek burned. He pressed his fingers to it and felt heat under the skin. He was not used to being touched like that. He was not used to anyone walking away from him mid‑argument. People usually stayed until he was done speaking. Charlotte did not.
He looked down at the desk. Reports from border patrol lay in a neat stack. A pen sat across the top page. He had told himself he would finish the notes before midnight. Now the lines on the paper would not focus. Every time he tried to read, he saw Charlotte's eyes and heard the flat sound of her voice when she said she wanted a divorce.
He told himself she did not mean it. She was angry and grieving and want
