I slept for nine hours.
I don't say this as an achievement, though after the weeks we had had, nine consecutive hours without waking was something close to extraordinary. I say it because when I opened my eyes and the light through the curtains was already full morning and Lucas was not yet knocking on the connecting door, I understood that something in me had released. Not finished, not resolved, but released. Like a fist that has been clenched for a long time and has finally, cautiously, opened.
I lay there and took inventory.
The duke had confessed. The formal statement was with the attorney general's office. The fabricated threat assessment was on the record. Elena's death was on the record. The charge sheet was complete. Nkechi had called at midnight, I had let it go to voicemail a
