Nobody spoke for a moment.
The library, the candle, the restored lights, Isabella in the doorway, all of it held still around the word confess like a room around a stone that has just been dropped into it.
Then Adrián said: "Tonight."
"His lawyer says he wants to meet before the formal statement is made to the AG's office," Isabella said. "He wants to say it to you first. Directly. Not through lawyers."
Adrián looked at me. I looked at him. The previous forty minutes were still present in the room but we had both, by unspoken agreement, set them aside. Some moments required being in them completely. This was one.
"I want Amara in the room," Adrián said.
Isabella looked at me. "He asked for that specifically," she said. "He asked for you both."
The meeting was at eight in the same co
