Lena's POV
Damian came back at midnight.
I heard the car on the gravel, heard the front door open and his footsteps moving through the ground floor with a pace that was different from usual faster, more deliberate, the rhythm of someone who had received information and was already acting on it.
I was still in the library.
I had sent Reeves away an hour earlier with a single instruction — don't tell Damian what I'd worked out about Catherine Hale until I'd spoken to him myself. Reeves had looked at me for a long moment before nodding. That he'd agreed without argument told me something about how much he trusted my instincts.
Or how much he trusted Damian to hear it better from me.
The library door opened.
Damian looked at me across the room and I looked back and in the three seconds
