Page 166 of Tracked and Taken

“Everything I have. The originals are in here. I made the backup by hand because the dataset digital and now it’s gone, and I am not repeating the mistake.”

Thane reaches across.

His hand stops one inch above the cover.

“May I?”

“Please.”

He picks it up.

His palm against the brown cover is the size of the cover. The plates across his knuckles catch the light. He opens it and reads.

Charlie watches him read.

Petra is holding her breath.

Flossie’s pen is on the desk.

I am drinking the most interesting cup of coffee I have ever held while not drinking it.

Thane closes the notebook. Sets it on the desk between them. Carefully.

“Charlie.”

“Yes.”

“This is excellent work.”

The corner of her mouth moves. “Thank you.”

“I am going to need to read it again.”

“All right.”

“At length.”

“All right.”

A pause.

“This evening, possibly.”

The smile starts at the corner of her mouth and arrives for half a second, at the center.

“All right, Thane.”

Flossie writes in her notebook. Charlie watches Flossie write. Charlie’s own pen is, by some habit, in her hand, and Charlie’s notebook is open in her lap.

“Flossie.”

“Yes, lovey.”

“You write everything down?”

“Always.”

“Why?”