Adrian was standing when I walked in.
Not at his desk, not at the window standing in the center of his office in the particular way of a man who'd received information that made sitting impossible. He turned when I entered and his eyes went immediately to the document in my hand.
I crossed the room and gave it to him without a preamble.
He read it. I watched his face, the controlled surface, the careful architecture of a man who'd spent thirty-two years ensuring that nothing arrived on his face without his permission. Something has arrived now. It moved through his expression like weather crossing open ground. Fast, and then contained, but I'd seen it.
He read it twice. Set it on the desk.
"Where did Lena get this?" His voice was even. The evenness cost him something.
"She delivered
