On the second anniversary of the night I climbed through that window, the compound gathers at the long table for dinner, twenty eight chairs now, every one of them filled, because Adrian has come for the evening at Anton's invitation, and Sera and Théo sit together comparing the latest entries in their respective notebooks, and Iris is eighteen months old and determined to walk the length of the table unassisted, which Drace watches with the same serious attention he gives every threshold a person is approaching for the first time.
Marcus reads his newspaper at the end of the table. Reth circulates with the quiet, complete attention he has given this place since before any of us arrived. Gregor and Irina sit together with the archive's near final draft between them, four months from publi
