Lenora's POV
I found Harlan in the treatment room.
He was at his usual work — an anatomy diagram in the lamplight, the charcoal moving in precise, careful strokes. He looked up when I came in. His expression shifted almost immediately: the particular look of a person who knows the question before it's asked because they've been waiting for it.
I set the file on the table beside his drawing.
He looked at it. "Ah," he said.
"You told me about the leverage. About Marcelline ordering you to follow me." I kept my voice level. "You didn't tell me you signed the medical clearance for Mira's detention."
"No." He set down the charcoal. "I didn't."
"Why?"
A long pause. He looked at his hands — the ink stains, the fine bones, the hands of a man who has always been more comfortable with instru
