“You mind if a make a call, baby?”

“Of course not. Nora?”

“Katherine.” He paused, steeled himself. Honesty was getting easier for him, but it wasn’t easy yet. “You know she and I had a little thing right before I got shot.” She sat up and looked at him. He went on, “I want to make sure she’s okay.”

“I think you should,” Paulina said. She squeezed his foot, let it go.

He walked to the bow where his phone was stashed in his duffel. She picked up on the first ring. She didn’t even say hello when she answered. Her first words were, “Please don’t tell me there’s more.”

“No more,” he said. “I think.”

“Good. Great.” She exhaled. “I’m almost sorry I got you into this.”

“It was my choice.”

“True. I guess what I mean is…I’m sorry I got me into this.” He heard her soft, sad laugh, then a sigh.

“You doing all right?” he asked.

“Okay, I guess. You?”

“I might not be going back to Mass for a while.”

“Paulina’ll let you get away with that?”

“She understands.”

“She’s been really good for you, hasn’t she?”

“Yeah, yeah she has.”

“Glad you’re okay. Look, I’m about to go. Did you—”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, Katherine. I’m sorry for treating you the way I did. Especially when you came by the hospital, and I acted like—”

“Like you didn’t know me?”

“Mom was there, but that’s no excuse. I could have told her we were friends, at least. She thought I was seeing someone else and it—never mind. Like I said, no excuse. I treated you like shit, and you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. Genuinely.”

A long silence followed. Then, “Wow. This case really did get to you.”

“It did, yeah,” he said. “You don’t have to forgive me or anything. I’m not asking for that. I just—”

“I forgive you.”

He didn’t know how much he needed to hear that until she said it, didn’t realize he was carrying that weight until she lifted it off and tossed it in the lake.

“I really do need to run,” she said.

“Yeah, of course. Thank you.”

“Bye, Cyrus. Hope you and Paulina are very happy together. I mean that.”

“Katherine?” he said fast, before she could hang up.

“Yes?”

“If you ever call me again with a case,” he said, “I’ll answer.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

When Nora checked her mail that afternoon and found another blank postcard, her stomach plummeted through the floor. Did Søren leave her again? Then she saw the postmark—New Orleans. She flipped the card over. It was just a vintage postcard of the French Quarter, the sort you could pick up for a dollar from any old bookstore in town. The night he’d returned from his trip, he’d told her what his blank postcards meant. I love you. I miss you. This is where you can find me. The card was an invitation, asking her to come back into his life. He wouldn’t force his presence on her. He was waiting, just waiting for her to decide what came next for them.