Chapter 4: Twelve Million

I crossed the lobby before I could talk myself out of it.

Declan heard my steps and wiped his face with his sleeve, quickly, and stood up.

"Solveig."

"You were crying," I said.

"It's been a long day."

"That isn't what I asked."

"No." He held my eyes. "But you said no questions about before. I'm trying to keep your rule."

He had me there, and he knew it.

"I'm keeping it too," I said. "I just wanted you to know I saw."

He nodded once.

"Will you eat something?" he asked. "The bar kitchen is open. Nobody will bother you."

I said yes before I thought about it.

We took a table by the pillar, and he ordered soup for me and nothing for himself.

I was halfway through the bowl when the revolving door turned and four people walked in out of the cold.

I knew the first two by their coats.

Warner's navy overcoat came in first, and Savannah's cream one behind it, with her hand on his arm.

Behind them came a broad man in a camel coat with a face I had seen at every Lindqvist Thanksgiving for ten years.

Savannah's father.

A woman in a grey suit walked beside him with a leather folder under her arm.

I put my spoon down.

"They found me," I said.

"Does Savannah still share your location?"

I took out my phone.

She had never turned it off.

Declan did not reach for me, and he did not stand.

"You can walk out the back," he said. "Or you can stay. It's your table."

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