Maya's POVThe room had settled into its night rhythm.Catherine had gone home an hour ago, persuaded by Olive, who had promised to call the moment anything changed. I had not rested.I had sat with the file Reeves had given me... not the physical file, the contents of it, the version that lived in my memory now and could not be un-memorised, and I had looked at Alex's face and tried to hold two things at once.The truth about my fatherThe man in the bed in front of me, who was coming back.I had known my father was meticulous....This was not a sentimental memory... it was an accurate one. The way he organised the study, the way his desk was never fully clear because he was always in the middle of something, the way he kept duplicates of important documents in places he described, once, as not the obvious place. He had told me this when I was twelve, showing me a small fireproof box he kept at the back of a shelf, and I had thought it was a quirky habit of a ca
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