REMI'S POV
She arrived on a Saturday morning in a car she'd taken from the airport herself, declining the driver Dax had arranged, and she stood in the lobby of the Wolfe building for exactly as long as it took the elevator to descend.
I knew this because Marcus had sent a single text: She's here. Declined escort. Lobby now.
I'd been in my room. Sitting on the floor with the box of letters in front of me — the floor had become my preferred position for anything that required genuine thought, a habit I'd apparently developed and wasn't inclined to break. Sixteen weeks. The pregnancy had settled into a particular kind of constancy over the past week — less the sharp early nausea and more a low, persistent awareness of something sharing space with me. A presence rather than a symptom.
The
