The board meeting was scheduled for a Thursday at nine in the morning, which meant Leonardo was at his desk by six.
Camila knew this because he texted at six-fourteen: couldn't sleep past five. At his desk. She'd been awake since five-thirty herself, lying in the dark of the Intendente flat listening to Daniel breathe through the open door, doing the thing insomnia made you do — assembling every possible version of the next twelve hours and running each one to its conclusion.
She texted back: same. She got up and made coffee and stood at the kitchen window in the early light and watched Lisbon happen incrementally, the way it did before the city fully committed to the day.
The summer programme had ended two weeks ago. Daniel had come home from the last-day boat event brown and authorita
