When the heavy door clicked shut behind her, the apartment went completely silent.

I walked across the open living room, past the polished glass dining table, to the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the river.

Below me, the lights of downtown Chicago shimmered on the dark water, stretching out bright and sharp in the cold night.

I reached up and touched the smooth skin at the back of my neck, feeling the clean, quiet space where my long hair used to fall.

Frank laid the three-page court order flat on the polished oak conference table and tapped the red clerk’s stamp in the top margin.