Page 157 of Black Reign

My hand moves to the lapel.

Orange blossom.

Still there.

VESPER: Stood close enough to leave my mouth on your glass while you interrogated florists.

My jaw tightens.

VESPER: You didn’t even look at me.

That one hits harder than the others.

She was there.

Close.

And I missed her.

Again.

GHOST: You’re enjoying this.

VESPER: Immensely.

GHOST: I noticed.

VESPER: You’re supposed to be the man who sees everything.

I stare toward the ocean.

Fair.

Infuriatingly fair.

GHOST: Enjoy it while it lasts.

A pause.

VESPER: Threat?

I think about every year I’ve spent treating Vesper like a puzzle.

Every dead end.

London Bridge.

The photographs.

Sergei.

My glass.

My jacket.

Her name for me appearing on a screen after she stood somewhere inside my security fortress watching me unravel.

Something in me shifts.