Vivienne's POV
I was already in bed when she called.
Not asleep. I hadn't been close to asleep since I got home, changed out of my work clothes and lay down on top of the covers with the specific intention of resting that my mind had immediately declined to cooperate with. The city was doing what it did outside my floor to ceiling windows, glittering and continuous and entirely indifferent to the fact that I was lying thirty two floors above it replaying the same sequence of moments on a loop that my brain had apparently decided needed more examination before it would permit me to close my eyes.
Ella's office. The folder. The framework with its almost empty confirmed column. The question I had asked and the silence that had answered it.
And underneath all of that, running like a curren
