Mercer didn't sleep that night either. He sat in his warehouse office with Keston's folder spread across the desk, going through every detail again, searching for something, anything, that might give him a way to reach Wren before tomorrow evening without breaking whatever rule the Ledger kept warning him about.
By morning, he still hadn't found an answer, and he was no closer to peace with it.
He went to the tannery anyway, telling himself he only wanted to see Wren one more time before the meeting, to gauge his mood, to look for some crack in his resolve he might be able to work with. Wren answered the door looking tired, dark circles under his eyes that hadn't been there a week ago.
"You look worse than I do," Mercer said.
"Been thinking a lot lately," Wren stepped aside to let him
