Puzzled, I turn to him.

“They’re on their way,” he says.

“Thank you.” My phone rings, and I look down to see it’s Santiago and answer.

“Judge, you called?”

“Oh, yes,” I take in those books again, the ballerina, the pretty flowers in their vase. “Apologies, Santiago. It was accidental. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“You’re sure? It’s not like you to accidentally call me.”

“I’m sure. I’m still a little out of sorts I guess.”

“Alright. Good night.” Santiago keeps strange hours. Ever since the explosion that disfigured him, he has lived in the dark. Until Ivy, at least. Mercedes adjusted her schedule, staying up until all hours and sleeping the mornings away until I broke her of the habit.

“Good night, Santiago.”

After disconnecting the call, I walk toward the counter dividing the kitchen from the living room and dip my fingers into the small potted basil plant. The soil is moist. Georgie and Solana have been taking turns watering the plants. The man I have checking the house once a day has seen them come and go. I haven’t stationed anyone to remain on site. I didn’t think it was necessary.

But I did install a camera.

And as I reach up to pick up the innocuous little eye from the highest shelf, I see the little red light still blinking. Still recording.

“Raul, can you stay here until the men come? I need to go to my office.”

He clearly finds that strange but nods.

I switch the camera off, drop it into my pocket and walk out the door, my panic upon arrival changing, morphing into something else. Anger. Betrayal.

The fresh lashes burn with the heat of it, and when I climb into the driver’s side of the car, my breath hisses at the contact of the seat and my raw back. I start the engine and drive to my office, dialing a number as I do.

“Councilor Hildebrand’s office,” his secretary says.

“This is Judge Montgomery. Is the Councilor in?”

“Yes, sir. Just a moment.”

Within a few moments, I hear a click and then Hildebrand comes on the line. “Judge. How are you?”

I don’t hear concern. More curiosity. I wonder if he watched the recording they always make to keep a record. Wonder if he enjoyed what he saw. I neither like nor trust Hildebrand. But I understand him. Men like him. And I know how to maneuver around them.

“I’ve been better,” I say.

“Yes, I suppose you have. You should have let her take her medicine. She earned it, and you know it.”

“Let’s put it behind us.”

“It wasn’t appropriate, Judge. You, a Sovereign Son.”

“And she a Sovereign daughter, let’s not forget.”

He ignores me. “A future Councilor yourself.”