Evelyn's POV:
I left the Metropolitan Club alone.
Ethan had offered to drive me across town, but I declined. I took a cab through the quiet canyons of Fifth Avenue, the city lights reflecting in smears of cold gold against the wet glass. When I stepped into the West End Avenue apartment shortly before midnight, the rooms were dark and utterly still.
I didn't turn on the overhead fixtures. I walked down the carpeted hallway to the second bedroom.
Ella was safe in Bedforth with Dr. Grant and the pediatric home-care nurse he had arranged, but her room here had already taken shape: the small pine desk by the window, the low bookshelf stacked with watercolor pads and her favorite picture books, and the bed made up with fresh linen.
For seven years, every corner of my physical life had been
