Chapter 70

• I had stopped checking the time two hours ago.
• The apartment had gone still. I was lying sideways on the couch in a pair of cotton pants and a threadbare long-sleeved shirt I had owned since before Roman. The overhead lights were off, and I hadn’t bothered to light a candle or even turn on the soft lamp by the window. The only illumination came from the city itself. Pockets of warm yellow from passing cars. A flicker of fluorescent from the restaurant across the street. The soft red of the clock on the microwave that never blinked but made me feel watched.
• Julian had sent a message earlier saying he would be at the workshop late. One of the seam lines had warped during shipment, and he was staying to sort it out. He told me not to wait up. I hadn’t responded. Not because I didn’t want to. I just didn’t want to see the screen light up again, reminding me of how quiet everything had become once the adrenaline of the court hearing wore off.