She found him standing at the window.
Not the composed version of standing at the window, the one she had catalogued in her first weeks here, the man checking on his city with his shoulders controlled and his face arranged. This was different. This was a man who had walked to the window because he needed somewhere to put himself while he thought and the window was the only option.
She came in and closed the door and did not say anything immediately because she understood that he needed a moment and she was capable of giving him one.
The city was overcast outside. November pressing in, the sky the particular flat grey of a day that had decided not to commit to weather but was threatening it.
He turned.
"Harlan went to Alderton," he said.
"I know. Reed told me."
"He named us specifica
