The officer nodded and wrote somethingdown.
The paramedic, the lead, came over next. He spoke to the officer in a voice meant for adults who needed facts.
“Time of death is,” he began.
Sera flinched as if he’d slappedher.
Time of death.
Alaric’s posture didn’t change, but his jaw flexedonce.
The officer asked more questions. Where had Rebecca been standing. Did she seem intoxicated. Had she been arguing with anyone. Had she made threats. Had anyone madethreats toher.
Sera stared at the stairs and saw the curve of the railing, the smooth shine of the steps, the dark smear no one had dared to scrubaway.
“She was scared,” Sera said before she could stop herself.
The officer looked up. Alaric’s eyes flicked toher.
“She wasn’t drunk,” Sera said, voice breaking. “She wasn’t angry. She was scared.”
The officer wrote it down and didn’t ask why, which came across like a kindness and a failure at the sametime.
A woman in a dark coat arrived next, not in uniform. She walked with authority, badge clipped to her lapel.
The medical examiner, Sera realized— or someone from that office, given the badge, the case file, and the way people immediately stepped aside.
They took over quietly. Photographs. Notes. Ablack bag unzipped near the base of the stairs.
Sera’s stomach lurched.
Alaric moved in front of her before she could see more.”You don’t have to watch,” hesaid.
Sera hated that he was right.She hated that she would never stop seeing itanyway.Minutes blurred. Then more minutes. The building lights stayed the same. The people moved. Voices came andwent.
Someone asked for surveillance footage. Security pointed toward cameras Sera had never noticed before. Someone asked for a list of employees who had accessed Rebecca’s keycard today. Someone asked who she’d met with. Who she’d been speakingto.
Sera watched Vidar answer questions with practiced ease. He was always just the right amount of shaken. Always just the right amount of cooperative.As if he’d rehearsed what grief should looklike.
When the black bag finally zipped, Sera made a sound she didn’t recognize.Alaric turned his head slightly.He didn’t touch her again. Not yet.Because he was watching.Because he was thinking.Because he looked like a man trying to solve a problem while the world burned.
An officer approached them again.”Mr. Severin,” hesaid.
Alaric’s gaze sharpened. “Yes.”
“We’re going to need formal statements,” the officer said. “Both of you.”
Alaric nodded. “We’ll cooperate.”
The officer glancedat Sera. “Ma’am.”
Sera forced herself to stand.They moved into a conference room off the lobby, glass walls frosted halfway up. Abottle of water appeared on the table. Sera didn’t know who set it there.
The questions came again, slower, more exact. Timelines. Words spoken. Distances. Who stood where when Rebecca lost her footing.
Sera answered until her voice went hoarse.Then she dropped her head and stared at her hands.
At some point, the officer stood. “That’s all for now,” he said. “We’ll likely follow up.”
