The room held the same shape, but no one was relaxed anymore.
Glasses where they'd been. Nate's hand near the edge of the table. Julian leaned back with one arm along the seat, but his shoulders hadn't dropped. Gilbert hadn't touched his drink at all. The ice had melted.
Arianne's fingers were close to Franz's. Not touching. She hadn't moved them in a while.
No one spoke. Not waiting. Thinking.
Nate broke it first.
"If we're missing where they went," he said, turning his glass, watching the liquid move, "then we're missing who they met." He didn't look up immediately. "People don't move like that for no reason. Not that often."
Julian exhaled through his nose. "They weren't sightseeing. That's obvious."
Arianne stared at the condensation ring under her glass. Watching it spread.
Regular trips. A year. Not random.
Gilbert leaned forward. "Then we trace the trips. Routes, bookings, anything that leaves a footprint."
Nate nodded. "Already on it."
A beat.
