She had been in bed for an hour without sleeping.
This was not unusual. she did her best thinking in the dark, when the household had gone quiet and there was nothing to perform for anyone. She lay on her back and looked at the ceiling and ran through everything she had, everything she needed, the gap between them, which was still very large.
The knock came at eleven.
She sat up before she had fully decided to. Three knocks, Not Val, Val didn't have to knock, Foxy would not even if her life depended on it, So it could be Jeremy? or not.
She pulled her robe around her shoulders and crossed to the door and opened it.
Michael.
He was still in his evening clothes, jacket on, though the top button of his collar had been loosened, which was the closest to informal she had ever seen him. In his left hand he held a slim file folder, edges clean.
"I found it," he said.
