Consciousness returned to Davon Deshaun not as a swift sunrise, but as a slow, reluctant tide washing over a barren shore. He woke feeling dredged from the depths of a deep, heavy sleep, his limbs leaden, his mind cobwebbed and slow. A profound, cellular tiredness clung to him, the accumulated exhaustion of too many crime scenes, too many lies, and too many nights spent staring at a ceiling that offered no answers. For long, motionless minutes, he simply sat on the edge of his bed, the cool air of the apartment raising goosebumps on his bare torso. His gaze was lost, unfocused, through the large floor-to-ceiling window that formed one wall of his bedroom.
Outside, the world was a study in muted tones. A low, granite-grey sky pressed down on the city, and a persistent, gusty wind whipped t
