Three months had gone by since that winter night.

Spring sunlight filled my office, slanting across the oak desk where blue blueprint rolls lay stacked in neat rows.

A plain glass of cold tap water sat next to the contract files.

I picked up the glass and took a long drink.

My hand was steady, my right thumb resting calmly against my knuckle without a single shake or twitch.

The metallic taste that had haunted my tongue for months was completely gone.