He'd almost hoped that no one would answer, or that he'd misread the schedule and would discover it wasn't actually Vandelin's shift after all. Then, "Come in," says that familiar voice. Kit feels his heart lurch unpleasantly, presses his lips into a thin line, then presses the latch and opens the door.

No pleasantries--he can't handle the small talk, not now. "I've got," he starts, pauses to swallow, "some intelligence here from Benedict Artemaeus on his family, their colleagues... Should be some promising leads on the Venatori in here." He forces himself to look up from the paperwork in his hands to meet Vandelin's eyes; his own are, despite his best efforts, no good at masking his hurt.

He clears his throat and offers the papers out.