Amy's POV
Leo dropped me off at seven forty-three.
I know the exact time because I checked my phone as his car pulled away from the kerb, some automatic part of me calculating whether Mark would be home yet. He finished at the depot on Wednesdays at six, which meant he was usually back by half past. I was over an hour late. We'd stayed longer at the library than planned, a real library this time, neutral ground, working on the presentation with the focused quiet that had started to characterise the time Leo and I spent together when we were actually working.
He'd insisted on driving me home. I'd told him it wasn't necessary. He'd said it was dark and he had a car and the discussion was over, in the particular way he had of ending discussions by simply not continuing them, and I'd been
