REBECCA’S POV
Olivia arrived at 12:00 AM with a folder and the expression she wore when she had been working since early morning and had reached the stage of a problem where the work had produced something worth delivering.
She set the folder on the kitchen table. She did not open it immediately. She looked at me first, the way she always looked at me when she had arrived from outside and needed to take a reading of the room before she determined how to proceed.
“Tell me about Taylor first,” she said.
I had texted her the summary on her way over, enough for her to know what had changed, not enough to replace the conversation. I told her now, the full account, the same precision I had been applying to everything since the garden. Taylor’s timeline. Eight months. The restaurant. The wa
