Ivy found him on the roof an hour later, the one place in the building Sterling had once told her he went when the walls of his own office felt too much like his father's, standing at the edge with the city spread out gold and glittering below them, saying nothing.

"You don't have to talk about it," she said, coming to stand beside him.

"I want to." His voice was rougher than she'd heard it, something young and unguarded underneath the exhaustion. "She left when I was fourteen. My father had just been caught in the first of what turned out to be a dozen scandals, and she packed...