59
Peter
It’s amazing what one night of solid sleep can do. My side still hurts when I move, and my calf and arm ache dully, but I feel infinitely more recovered as I take a seat across the table from Kent and Esguerra.
Ilya, Yan, and Anton join me on my side, and I smile as a plump middle-aged woman brings in a platter of cut-up fruit and cookies.
This is an improvement from the way Esguerra used to hold business meetings in this office. There was no food back then as far as I recall.
“Thank you, Ana,” I say as she places the platter in the middle of the oval table, and the housekeeper beams back at me, pleased to be remembered. I didn’t have a lot of interactions with her when I worked for Esguerra, but I have a good memory for names.
“Welcome back, Señor Sokolov,” she says with a
