The study door is half-closed.
Ava stands outside it anyway, one hand resting against the frame. She can hear him inside. Papers shifting. The low murmur of his voice on the phone. Controlled. Professional. Calm in a way he hasn’t been with her in weeks.
“Yes,” he says. “I’ll take care of it.”
“No. I don’t need assistance.”
She exhales slowly, then knocks once, lightly.
His voice lowers. “I’ll call you back.”
The silence that follows is immediate and sharp.
“Yeah?” he calls.
She pushes the door open the rest of the way. He’s at the desk, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened. His laptop screen casts a pale glow across his face. There are dark circles under his eyes. He hasn’t shaved.
For a second, she just looks at him. He doesn’t look back.
“I made coffee,” she says softly. “It’s on t
