Amphitrite arrived on the balcony, naked and glistening, her wet hair hanging down her back. She had decided that the only way to get back to feeling like herself might to be start faking it until it was true, and that was what she was going to do. And if her husband saw through it, she hoped he would choose to ignore it.
She picked up her wine and took a large drink before saying. "Alright. Now how do we find someone that broke into a hotel room six months ago and presumably got away with murder?"