Hazel's POV
Detective Reyes called three days later, while Julian was still recovering at the London flat I hadn't lived in with him but had somehow ended up sharing with him anyway, in that strange limbo of not-quite-together we'd fallen into since the hospital. I put the call on speaker because Julian asked me to, sitting stiffly upright on the couch with his arm in a sling, and I sat across from him, my hands folded tight in my lap, bracing for whatever came next. The flat still smelled faintly of the takeout we hadn't finished the night before, and outside the window a light rain had started against the glass, steady and quiet, the kind of ordinary weather that made the coming conversation feel even stranger by comparison.
"We found the driver," Reyes said. "The one from five years a
