Chapter Text
Robin’s head appears around the thin, blue curtain.
‘How’re you doing?’
Strike holds up his arm, revealing butterfly stitches.
‘Could be worse,’ he says. ‘Definitely would’ve been worse, if you hadn’t been there.’
She shrugs, as though the evening’s events were inconsequential.
‘That was good work tonight. Seriously. Most people would’ve panicked.’
The look she gives him is unfamiliar. There is steel beneath the sweetness.
‘Well,’ she says. ‘I’m not most people.’
‘No,’ he agrees. ‘Obviously not. Thank you.’
The words are not enough. Not for tonight. Not for the last six weeks. His temporary secretary beams anyway.
‘No problem.’