“No,” she said. “He doesn’t.”
Her voice was tired now.
Not hostile.
I looked at the bent folder in her hand.
“I know you aren’t trying to erase her.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re trying to stop one photograph from consuming the next six months.”
“Yes.”
“But we can’t do that by turning her into someone she wasn’t.”
“No,” Sophie said. “We can’t.”
She straightened the folder against her thigh.
“I’ll say the interview speaks for itself.”
“No clarification?”
“None.”
“No description of—”
“Savannah.”
I stopped.
“I heard you.”
She walked into the hallway and answered Richard’s third call.
Rachel watched her go.
“You frightened her.”
“She frightens me daily.”
“She likes you.”
“Is that how everyone expresses affection now?”
“It appears to be.”
I looked at her.
Rachel paused.
“Unfortunate phrasing.”
“Very.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
