The meeting with Marsh was arranged for Friday morning and cancelled twice before it happened at all.
The first cancellation came Thursday evening, a brief message through official channels citing a scheduling conflict with the Home Office's quarterly oversight review. The second came Friday at half seven, while I was still in my dressing gown with a cup of tea going cold on the kitchen counter, reading Weston's feed from the previous night — his entry about the surveillance landing, the flat grey light, the sentence he had written and then apparently sat with for some time before submitting. A systems notification, this time. Room unavailable. She would be in contact.
Holmes called me at eight forty-three.
Create a free account to unlock all chapters. It only takes a few seconds.
Sign In FreeCreate your own AI-powered novel for free
Get Started Free