Lita entered the house exhausted physically and emotionally. Artemis had called in her clean-up crew team to dispose of the computer guy. Lita had stayed around to ensure her team followed their directives to the letter. Their warehouses were some of the cleanest in the world.
Now it was four in the morning on Friday and her head was throbbing. Debrief had been nearly two hours. Having such a violation of her privacy had brought her PTSD front and center and even watching a funeral pyre hadn’t helped quell the rage she was feeling before she’d sat with Psych-One.
She could hear the couch creaking under Diarmid’s weight in the living room and she prayed she hadn’t awakened him as she entered the house.
“Hey,” his voice was quiet as she tiptoed past the door. “You were out late.”
“Dinner
