The basement had the particular quality it always had at this hour — the specific, contained stillness of a room that existed outside the ordinary rhythm of the building above it, insulated from the sounds of the city and the movement of the day by concrete and intention. The operation wall occupied its usual place, the threads and photographs and documents arranged with the precise, purposeful order of something that had been built carefully over time.
Aurora stood before it with the pointer in her hand.
"The last time I was here, I told you I was going to get to the bottom of this." She kept her voice level, the specific register of someone presenting findings rather than making an argument. "I've found something we can work with."
Ray looked at her from across the table. "And what's that?"
