Georgia's POVThe consultation, or whatever it was, continued.I sat at the edge of it the way I had sat at the edge of so many conversations in the past two years, present in body, performing attention, while another part of me moved through the room quietly and filed what it found.Clarksdale spoke to Carlisle in the register of men who have known each other long enough to have a shorthand, references I could not fully decode, implications I could hear the shape of without accessing the content. The leather bag stayed open on the table, its arranged contents present but not yet explained to me in any direct way.My attention wandered to the doorway.Elena stood there.She had been doing this since I arrived, appearing in doorways, moving through the edges of rooms, her presence always slightly more deliberate than the role of housekeeper required. I had been noticing it without fully acknowledging that I was noticing it, filing it under the general category of a woman who had been i
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