"Yes," he said. "Considerably."
I went back to the correspondence.
He went back to whatever he'd been reading — the enterprise quarterly, probably, which had been on the island since Monday and which he consumed in the particular way he consumed things that required sustained attention, in sections, over several days, annotating as he went.
We worked at the island in the morning quiet that was ours.
Isolde, in the bassinet, continued her investigation of the light. At some point she arrived at a conclusion — visible in the specific settling of her expression, the particular quality of having assessed and filed — and went back to sleep.
The city outside. The May morning. The permanent chapter, begun.
REMI'S POV — Two weeks later
Marisol came back on the third Friday of May.
Emory wi
