ELEANOR'S DISCOVERY
Eleanor came on a Thursday.
Not Harmon first. Eleanor herself — which was different, which broke the pattern in a way that made the back of my neck prickle the moment I heard her heels in the corridor. She came at half past eight in the morning, earlier than any of her previous visits, and she came without the usual ten to twelve-day gap. It had been four days since her last appearance.
Four days.
I was in the kitchen making breakfast when the keypad sounded. Alex was still in his room — I could hear him moving, the particular sounds of his morning, not yet dressed. I wiped my hands on the dish towel and I straightened and composed my face into the expression I'd been maintaining for two weeks now. The ordinary expression. Everything is fine. The expression of someo
