The hundredth chapter of any story is a place to stop and look at where you've been.
She wasn't thinking about chapter numbers. She was thinking about March.
It was July now, the summer in full operation, the city at its most itself — warm and loud and smelling of salt and sunscreen near the waterfront and petrichor whenever the evening brought a brief storm. Daniel was at the summer programme, Level Two as requested, with a letter from Rui confirming that his assessment of his own abilities had been accurate. The nursing programme had a six-week break. Leonardo was doing what he did in summer — working, but differently, the pace slightly altered, more evenings with the window open and the chess set on the floor.
She was standing at the kitchen window at seven in the morning watching th
