Killian had counted three apartments since Penelope left.
He hadn't meant to count. Counting wasn't something he did consciously anymore — years of operational habit had turned it into background processing, the kind of thing his mind did whether he wanted it to or not. Rooms cleared. Time elapsed. Threat level. Location of every person under his protection, mapped and re-mapped without him deciding to do it.
Right now, that last category had a gap in it.
