“We just received an emergency crossconnect with NYPD.” The admin’s breath trembled. “It happened right outside. On Tenth.”

“What happened?”

“They think it’s an accident. A taxi, it hit one of ours. Ki Marton. He was out there with Agent Musil. The avenue’s full of police and EMTs.” She cleared her throat. “I know Ki.”

Morse stared at her. She knew him too. For years. Ki was Leo’s ASAC back at FBI Cyber. One of the men who migrated over to the Force with him.

She sat there facing Emma, Kali and Carmody doing the same, not a sound in the office around them. It occurred to her almost semiconsciously that she couldn’t hear any sirens. The Terminal’s foot-thick walls stopped all noise coming up from the street.

Finally, she broke the silence.

“Emma, do you know his condition?”

The admin looked at her from across the room. Nodded.

And started crying uncontrollably.

“You sure gave that sugar cone no mercy,” Leo said over his empty ice-cream cup. “Guess I don’t have to ask if you liked it.”

Rachel pushed what was left of the cone into her mouth.

“It’s the best,” she said. “Totally.”

He smiled. It was about half past one, and they were at a small round table in the Chelsea Market’s common area, tourists and shoppers streaming everywhere around them under its high, vaulted roof.

“Rach,” he said, “we haven’t talked much about you coming to live with me. But I thought about it all the time I was in the hospital. Every day. I just figured it should wait till I got better.”

She looked at him. “I was really scared when you got hurt,” she said. “I didn’t know if it would be like it was with Mom. That I would never see you again.”

Leo felt a sharp twinge of guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You were getting settled in with your aunt. Starting a new school. I figured I’d butt out instead of making you feel bad for me.”

Rachel was quiet. “It’s OK,” she said.

“No, I made a mistake,” he said. “I should’ve called more often.”

They sat there a moment.

“I’d like you to really think about whether you want to come live with me,” he said.

“And Mack,” she said.

“And Mack,” he said.

She held her eyes on him.

“Do you really want me to live with you, Leo?”

“More than anything,” he said. “But I can get grouchy. And Mack poops on the floor sometimes.”

“On the floor?”

“Sometimes. In the kitchen.” He shrugged. “It comes up easy. A paper towel and some spray cleaner do the trick.”

She giggled and pulled a face. “Gross,” she said.