Caleb did not sleep after they brought Dani in.
He lay in the dark of the safe house with his arm throbbing on the pillow beside him and he thought about the man in the Meek. Not Dani, who had reached through the nothing and taken his hand and come back into a body that hurt. The other one. Reyes, who had stood easy inside twelve marks of plating and looked down into the pit and said some of us knocked.
Around three he gave up and went down to the kitchen, and his father was already there.
Marcus sat at the table with the cane hooked on the chair back and Henry's ledger open in front of him, the four volumes Mira had given them stacked at his elbow and the last one spread to the final pages. He had a pencil he was not writing with, only holding it, his hands needing somewhere to be.
"You should be asleep," Marcus said.
"So should you."
"I have been asleep for nineteen years." Marcus turned a page without reading it. "I am making up for it by being awake now."
