He carried his coffee to the table.
Sat down across from me.
Opened his laptop.
The kitchen arranged itself around us the way it had arranged itself on Monday night, the domestic parallel-work configuration that had apparently become a thing that happened in this space, unremarked upon, just a fact about the household.
I looked at my notes.
Column G. Column H. The Katherine Ellison seating decision.
Looked up.
Julian was reading something on his screen with the precise focused stillness that meant he was actually reading it, not skimming, taking in something that required full attention.
He had called at six in the morning.
He had said the word escape.
He had no idea that I knew this.
He had no idea that I was sitting across from him right now, looking at the top of his head whi
