It was past midnight when Sera heard him in the kitchen.
Not unusual, exactly — the compound kept odd hours, there was always someone awake. But this was Marcus, and Marcus didn't wander. Marcus had a purpose for every room he entered, and the kitchen at midnight wasn't a purpose. It was something else.
She went down.
He was standing at the counter with his back to the door, not making anything, not getting anything. Just standing there with both hands flat on the surface, the way people stood when they needed something solid.
She didn't announce herself. Just came in, went to the range, started heating water. He didn't turn around.
For a while neither of them said anything. The compound's nighttime sounds — the distant perimeter, the wind off the northern ridge, somewhere a door.
"A
