At night, after Fiona slept, they sat on the patio with coffee gone cold and talked like adults who had been badly used by rooms full of charm.

He told her about a marriage that had turned his name into a weapon.

She told him about a kitchen where she had learned to apologize for asking where the money went.

They did not rush the talk toward a future.

The future, for once, was allowed to arrive late.

David tried other doors.