“Do you even know where you’re going?” I asked.
“Why do you think I’m here? We have an appointment.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. J, stop for a minute. I need to rest. I need think. Somebody just blew up my building!”
“Only the 43rd floor and the damages, you will discover, are minor.”
Just then her telephone buzzed. She looked at it, then quickly deleted the text before I could read it.
“Besides,” she said, “how else was I going to get you out there? Come on. Michaela hates when anyone is late.”
