He had not lost control.

He had spent exactly as much of it as the situation required to make me stop.

The trouble, for him, was that I had already stopped asking out loud.

I only kept asking on paper, where his temper could not reach.

Chapter 8 — The Old Quarter of Lisbon

By one o’clock the salt air outside the Cape May Public Library had turned grey and chilly, carrying the sharp scent of the coming tide.

I took the terminal furthest from the door, where the screen was hidden from anyone walking in, and logged into the corporate registry database with my own secure professional credentials, the same ones I used every day for legitimate work.