His mother, Madam Vale, called him that evening. He was still at the office when his phone lit up with her name, and he answered before the second ring, the way he always had with her.
She did not ask him how the day had gone. She had seen enough of the world to know how it had gone, and she was not calling for a report. Her voice when she spoke was warm and soft in the particular way it got when she was feeling something she did not entirely know how to say.
"I think I'm going to retire," she told him.
Julian leaned back in his chair. Outside the tall windows, the city moved in its evening rhythms, lights coming on one by one across the skyline.
"Come and stay with us for a while first," he said. "You don't have to go anywhere right away."
"Julian." There was a gentle finality in the way she said his name.
"Mother,"
"You don't need me looking over your shoulder." She paused, and he could hear the smile in it. "You never did, really. I just needed to be sure you knew that."
