The Briefing
HANNAH’S POV:
I had in fact come in four minutes late to that recital and had genuinely believed I had been invisible in the back row and was frow learning that I had been completely visible and that Amelia had clocked me from the stage with the observation skills of a child who had been watching adults her whole life and knew exactly what they were doing.
“I will be there on time,” I told her. “Front row if I can manage it.”
“You do not have to be front row,” she said graciously. “Third row is also acceptable. But not the back. The back is where people sit when they think they might have to leave early and I need to know you are not thinking about leaving early.”
I looked at my seven-year-old daughter explaining the theatre seating politics of her drama club performance with the calm authority of a senior producer and I thought, she is absolutely going to be extraordinary at whatever she decides to do with her life.
“Third row,” I promised. “And I am staying for the whole thing.”
She nodded, satisfied, and went back to rehearsing.
Thursday came.
The meeting with Rowan was at two in the afternoon. The performance was at seven. I had five hours in between to get back across the city, change out of whatever I was wearing to meet Rowan, and get to the school.
The day before Thursday I had to have a brief but important conversation with Elijah about what “I will have Kojo arrange the technical side” meant in practice.
“It means you will not be in that bar,” I said.
He looked at me. “Kojo’s people will be in the bar.”
“And you will be where?”
A pause that told me everything. “Nearby,” he said.


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