REMI'S POV
Emory arrived the next morning.
He came through the door with the bearing of a man who had been given the name overnight and had spent the hours between the phone call and now assembling what it meant into something he could carry into a room. He was in his usual navy. He looked at Dax first, then at me, then at the one-page summary Patricia's team had prepared, which I'd set on the kitchen island before he arrived.
He picked it up. Read it.
Set it down.
The quiet that followed was the specific quiet of someone who has been building toward a confrontation for a long time and has just discovered that the thing he's been building toward is both exactly what he suspected and considerably larger than the version he'd been managing in his head.
"I knew part of it," he said.
I
