March came in quietly.
The city did what it always did at the turn of the season, not a dramatic shift but a gradual one, the particular quality of the light changing first, going from the flat honest grey of winter to something with more depth in it, more suggestion of warmth even on the cold days. The trees along the avenues were still bare but there was something in the way the air moved that was different from February and she noticed it on her morning runs and let it do the thing that changing seasons did, recalibrate something internal without requiring a decision.
She had been running four mornings a week now.
This had happened without her entirely planning it, the way several things in her life had happened in the past six months. She had started going with Damien on Sundays and
