She nods slowly. Then pulls her hand away.
"I should get ready for dinner then."
"Sera—"
"Yes?"
"Thank you. For telling me what you need. For—for giving me a chance to do better."
She stands. Smooths down her sweater. "Don't thank meyet. You haven't actually done better. You've just said you will."
"Fair enough."
She starts to leave. Pauses at the door.
"Adrian?"
"Yes?"
"I don't want to be your enemy." Her voice is soft. "I know I'll never be the wife you would have chosen. But I don't want to spend the rest of my life fighting you either."
"Then don't."
"It's not that simple."
"It could be."
She gives me that sad smile again. "Maybe. But not today."
Then she's gone.
I sit there in the empty conservatory, my phone buzzing incessantly in my pocket with updates about Gabe, leads that need following, decisions that need making.
I silence it.
Then I call Leo.
"Boss?"
"I need you to do something for me."
"What?"
"Sera's apartment. There's a box of restoration tools. Three books on her nightstand. I want them here by tonight."
Silence.
"Leo?"
"You're going to her apartment? For books?"
"And tools."
"In the middle of a manhunt for Gabriel Romano."
"Yes."
More silence. Then: "Does this mean what I think it means?"
