Morning.veronica: Good

She didn't wait for his answer. She was already walking toward her battered Fiat, the same one she'd driven into a river three months ago chasing a suspect. The water had almost won. But Veronica had learned to hold her breath longer than most.

Outside, her phone buzzed. A text from Angela: Morning, Mom. Made you coffee. Come home. good morning.veronica

"You're seeing patterns in static. Take the week. Rest." She didn't wait for his answer