Mark tried not to feel so damn cheerful. After all, it was only minutes since he’d been sprung from a night in the hospital under observation for possible after-effects of cyanide poisoning. Okay, that didn’t add much to the cheerful side of the balance, other than not waking up dead this morning. But it wasn’t the key.
The key was that today was a beautiful September morning. The air held that first taste of fall that would wash across DC over the next month. And he was walking along the street holding hands with Emily Beale. If he could remain in this space, in this moment, he’d be content, perhaps for a long time.
However, he knew it wasn’t going to last but two more doors down the street, ending when they arrived at her parents’ house for breakfast.
Balance. All of his thoughts toda
