KNOX
Grayson texted at six-seventeen in the morning. Not a call — a text, which meant he'd done the math on what calling would mean and chosen the slower method as a kindness.
*Elder Reyes landed at SeaTac forty minutes ago. She didn't notify the council she was coming. She doesn't have to. Knox, she's coming to the shop.*
I read it twice. Put the phone face-down on the counter. Picked it back up.
Riley was upstairs getting the twins ready for preschool. I could hear Hunter arguing about shoes — not whether to wear them, but which specific shoes, a distinction that apparently mattered enormously — and Luna narrating something about breakfast in that calm, precise way she had, as if she were filing a report.
I made coffee. Set out a second mug.
The thing about Elder Reyes that most wo
