Although they sat in the same room, neither Matthew nor Gavin said much as the night slipped by. An old movie played in the background, something black and white with Humphrey Bogart, a lot of fog, and a line or two that Matthew could remember having heard before. (“How do you like your brandy, sir?” “In a glass.”)
There was too much going on in his head to enjoy it, though. At three A.M., he excused himself to go to bed, but the sun was already rising before he managed to drop off. It was only six minutes before noon when his eyes opened again and no matter how many times he told himself he hadn’t had enough sleep to function properly, his head wouldn’t let him fall back into it.
So he got up. He made the bed. He put on coffee. He called his mother, and then lied about things like busin
