Later, I sat outside with a cup of tea.

The river moved quietly through the dark.

For the first time in a long while, I thought about the future without imagining Preston trying to take it away.

I considered what it might mean to date again, to sell the old house, to travel for pleasure rather than evidence collection.

None of those decisions needed to be made that night.

I had become accustomed to living under deadlines imposed by someone else.