Page 59 of Enzo

“Getting here, no.” I glance toward the school. “Understanding why I'm here might be another matter.”

She smiles faintly.

“You'll soon find out.”

“Does Mr. Valizar always keep people in the dark?”

“You’re not as in the dark as some.”

I can't tell if she's joking. She turns toward the school. “Come with me. It will make more sense once we’ve had this meeting.”

And why exactly am I having this meeting? I follow Penelope toward the entrance.

“Perhaps you could tell me what this has to do with the proposed land development project Luca mentioned yesterday because I’m still having difficulty connecting all the dots.”

“Mr. Valizar has been in discussions with Miss Turlington for several months,” Penelope continues. “And he has now come to a final decision. He would like to redevelop it for the benefit of the school and the surrounding community.”

I try to connect all the dots. He’s seen the work I did on the abandoned depot.

“And now he wants me to work out what should be done with it?”

“Among other things.”

I look at her.

“What other things?”

That faint smile again.

“That's what we're here to discuss.”

We’re shown into the reception area. The woman behind the desk greets Penelope warmly, which tells me that this isn’t her first visit here. I look at my watch. We’re five minutes early.

“Before anything is finalized, Mr. Valizar wants to know what’s feasible, what it will cost, and whether whatever is built can be sustained in the long term.”

“That I can do. But what does this have to do with the school?”

“That’s why we’re here. Miss Turlington knows what the school and the community need. Mr. Valizar doesn’t want to decide what should be built without speaking to the people who will actually use it.”

He has a good point.

The door opens and a middle-aged woman steps out. She's tall, with silvery black hair swept back from her face. Her face brightens when she sees Penelope.

“Penelope. Lovely to see you again.”

“Good morning, Miss Turlington.”

They greet each other warmly before Penelope introduces me.

“This is Enzo Knight.”

“Mr. Knight.” Miss Turlington offers me her hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“Please come in.” She holds the door to her office open.

Children’s drawings cover one wall along with certificates and photographs. Books are stacked on a low wooden shelf and on her desk, a mesh wire pen tidy stuffed with pens. There’s a large egg-shaped glass paperweight beside her mouse mat.