In Chap­ter 94 of “We Solve Mur­ders,” we find Steve walk­ing through Dubai Mari­na, reflect­ing on his sense of dis­lo­ca­tion and long­ing for home. He is vis­i­bly 3,000 miles away from the famil­iar­i­ty of his home and rou­tine, with vivid mem­o­ries of Deb­bie, his late part­ner, shap­ing his feel­ings of nos­tal­gia and loss. As he approach­es an Irish Pub, he antic­i­pates an expe­ri­ence rem­i­nis­cent of British sports and local cama­raderie but quick­ly real­izes it won’t repli­cate his usu­al atmos­phere back home, par­tic­u­lar­ly not with friends like Tony, Jyoti, and John.

As Steve enters the pub, he finds the atmos­phere bustling and over­whelm­ing, a stark con­trast to the qui­eter noise of his own life in Axley. The vibrant yet unrec­og­niz­able set­ting ampli­fies his dis­com­fort as he pon­ders the essence of enjoy­ment. The over­whelm­ing visuals—bright neon signs, tele­vi­sions blar­ing var­i­ous sports, and a sense of dis­con­nec­tion from his past experiences—bring him to a trou­bling con­clu­sion: he has­n’t tru­ly enjoyed life since the death of Deb­bie. The term “enjoy” feels alien to him now.

While grap­pling with his emo­tions, Steve reflects on his recent expe­ri­ences, par­tic­u­lar­ly the time spent with his daugh­ter-in-law Amy. He acknowl­edges the joy derived from pro­tect­ing her, and he feels a sense of con­nec­tion with Rosie, anoth­er per­son who has entered his life dur­ing this tumul­tuous peri­od. Despite the enjoy­able inter­ac­tions, a pro­found sense of empti­ness lingers.

As Steve con­tem­plates his return to Axley, he rec­og­nizes the dual­i­ty of his feelings—how he both miss­es the com­fort of home and how the mem­o­ries of Deb­bie haunt him. He per­ceives the sofa that per­fect­ly cra­dles his form as a metaphor for the life he once shared with her, now etched with an absence. Ulti­mate­ly, he under­stands that regard­less of where he trav­els, Debbie’s pres­ence accom­pa­nies him, deeply influ­enc­ing his jour­ney even in her absence, as he joins François Lou­bet at the pub, feel­ing her spir­it beside him.

In Chap­ter 94 of “All the Col­ors of the Dark,” the scene opens with the Tooms house enveloped in dark­ness, just illu­mi­nat­ed by a slen­der cres­cent of moon­light. Saint, adorned in her prom dress, stands before the house, hav­ing gone to the salon where her hair now cas­cades in chest­nut waves. She metic­u­lous­ly applies her make­up and dons her Mary Janes, embody­ing the radi­ant image of a young woman ready for a spe­cial night. Nor­ma, her com­pan­ion, com­pli­ments her appear­ance, high­light­ing the care Saint has tak­en, but their exchange has a play­ful edge, indi­cat­ing the under­ly­ing ten­sion.

With Jim­my Wal­ters set to arrive soon, Saint finds her­self absorbed in con­tem­pla­tion. She gazes out over the vast land­scape, her thoughts drift­ing to Grace, anoth­er girl who might be lost or hid­den away in the wilder­ness. This wor­ry lingers in her mind as she nav­i­gates her feel­ings about the prom, over­shad­owed by the uncer­tain­ty sur­round­ing Grace’s fate.

Deter­mined to explore the farm­house, Saint stealth­ily climbs through a win­dow and wan­ders through the dim­ly lit inte­ri­ors, her dress trail­ing on the floor­boards. The kitchen reveals a col­lec­tion of canned goods, a stark reminder that these items endure over time, a refuge from decay, unlike the mem­o­ries and peo­ple that haunt her.

After tak­ing in the scene, she notices a flick­er­ing light from her grand­moth­er’s house in the dis­tance. The omi­nous atmos­phere height­ens as she ascends to the attic, the sense of fore­bod­ing ampli­fy­ing with every creak of the floor­boards beneath her. As Saint nav­i­gates this dark space, her heart races when she hears something—an unset­tling sound that sends pan­ic through her. Sum­mon­ing her courage, she calls out, hop­ing to con­front what­ev­er lurks in the shad­ows. With her knees shak­ing and dust fill­ing the air, the ten­sion esca­lates as she becomes acute­ly aware of being fol­lowed, leav­ing her on the brink of ter­ror as she pre­pares to face the unknown.