LOGINI ordered wine. The work wasn't finished. The room was quieter. She took the glass without comment. Drank. Set it down and kept writing. She spoke about the eastern corridor communities directly, without framing or adjustment, as if they existed in the room with us. Her hand moved as she talked, m
Edward's POV The door opened behind me. No knock. She came in already talking. "I need your numbers from Rotterdam before we fix anything else," she said. "The version you gave him assumes—" She stopped. I didn't turn immediately. Just reached for the towel, dragged it once over my face, then
The auctioneer's cadence moved through the wall. I had built something without him. That was still true. It would stay true. Whatever I said next didn't touch it. "I don't know," I said. "That's the honest answer. Not the managed version." I met his gaze. "I don't know if what's left is enough to
Alicia's POV The older man was still talking. "Seven years," he said. "Four jurisdictions. We moved water infrastructure across borders that hadn't spoken to each other in a generation." His hands traced corridors in the air between us. "The archive is the proof it happened. That it worked." He tu
“You entered without cause,” I said. “You stayed without one.” “I don’t know what this is between you two but—” “My wife.” No variation in tone. No additional weight needed. Alicia’s hand lifted a little, then halted mid-motion and settled again without completing the gesture. The woman exhaled
Edward’s POV “Forty thousand. Do I have forty-five?” The paddle was already raised. Alicia’s hand remained under mine, unchanged in position, as though neither of us had adjusted to its presence since it settled there. “Forty-five.” I raised. “Fifty. Fifty-five.” On the left, a man leaned forw
Behind me, Vivienne's voice. "Edward. Inside. Now." I turned. Walked back. Lucy was in the foyer, mascara streaking down her face. "Edward, I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this—" I walked past her like she didn't exist. Vivienne followed me. "I'm calling the guests right now. I'll tell th
"I'm making you food," she said, standing. "Real food. Not whatever they serve in that prison." "I'm not hungry." "Don't care. You're eating." She disappeared into the kitchen. Cabinets opened. A pan hit the stove. The sounds of someone who knew exactly what needed doing. I sank into the couch,
Alicia’s POV The apartment was quiet. Not the comforting quiet that let you sink into stillness, but the kind that pressed against your temples and reminded you of everything you hadn’t done, everything you’d lost. Elena had already left for work. The sound of her heels fading down the stairwell wa
Alicia's POV I woke to a sound I couldn’t place at first—shapes of voices drifting upward, blurred by distance and the layout of the house. Not words. Not tones I could clearly identify. Just the low hum of conversation traveling through the open staircase, the kind that shouldn’t have existed this







