I found Theo at eleven.
Not in the east sitting room where he had been conducting the boundary provision sessions in Damon's absence, not in the corridor outside the green room where he sometimes stood in the evenings with his phone and the specific posture of a man managing the distance between where he was and where he needed to be. I found him in the kitchen, which surprised me and did not surprise me, because the kitchen at eleven at night had become the room where significant things happened in this house and perhaps Theo had absorbed that understanding in the weeks of his presence here the way everyone else had absorbed it, not from being told but from the accumulated experience of the kitchen producing, at midnight and near-midnight and the dark hours before four, the specific conv
