The first time that Robin had ever entered Strike’s office had been on her first morning as an engaged woman. Unlocking the glass door today, she remembered watching the new sapphire on her finger darken, shortly before Strike had come hurtling out of the office and nearly knocked her down the metal staircase to her death. There was no ring on her finger anymore. The place where it had sat all these months felt hypersensitive, as though it had left her branded.
