Lynn’s POV

I sat on the sofa for a long time after the call ended.

The phone was face-down on the cushion beside me. The apartment was quiet. I could feel Istha curled somewhere in the back of my chest, not speaking, just present — the way she got when she knew I needed a minute and had the sense not to fill it with words.

Michael had been generous. That almost made it worse.

He'd said all the right things. Wished me well. Said he needed time, but that he ...