CHAPTER 36 —

Dover Row smells like someone polished the air and then forgot to breathe. It’s a strip of narrow facades and private doors where lawyers keep quiet offices and couriers learn how to look invisible. The rain this morning has the courtesy to be light — drizzle, not an assault — and the city answers late: a tram bell three blocks over, a dog barking after a light changes. Nicole stands beneath a small awning with Madeline and Harrow and Anders, hands in the pockets of a ...