Kane POVThe silence lasted exactly long enough to become a different kind of thing.Not the silences I'd learned to use — the deliberate ones, the ones that gave people space to fill or revealed what they were made of by how they chose to fill them. This one had edges. It pressed against the walls of the apartment and found no exits and came back changed.Rave didn't move.That was the thing I kept returning to, even as the rest of my mind was doing the cold, methodical work of reassessment — rebuilding everything from the last forty-eight hours with this new information laid over it like a transparency sheet, checking what changed, what held, what had been architecture and what had been performance.He didn't move.He didn't reach for an explanation or a deflection or the particular brand of pre-emptive justification that guilty people produced when they felt the moment arriving. He sat in his chair with his hands flat on the table and waited, and that waiting was either the composu
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