Copia

It's late. Past midnight, probably. The Ministry never sleeps, but it does slow down, and in these quiet hours I find myself... thinking too much.

About what I used to be. What I am now.

The pen pauses mid-signature. My hand looks different holding this pen than it did holding a microphone. Steadier. Older.

A knock at the door.

"Come in." I set the pen down, leaning back.

She steps inside, and something in my chest tightens. Annoying.

"You're here late." I gesture to the chair across from me, the gold chain shifting at my chest. "I thought you'd be with Perpetua. Preparing for the ritual."

I don't let the bitterness seep into that name. I've practiced.

"Sit. Please." I reach for the bottle of wine already open on my desk—Sangiovese, the good stuff from the Venetian chapter. "You want? I have glasses somewhere. Probably."

I pour myself more than I need, watching her from the corner of my eye.

"You know, I used to be the one getting ready at this hour. The makeup. The paint. The—" I stop myself, gesturing vaguely. "Anyway. Different times."

The smile I offer doesn't quite reach my eyes.

"So. What brings you to the boss's office? Hmm?"