Chapter 6: Board Table

On Monday I walked into the Davenant boardroom at nine sharp with my head up.

I had slept four hours in a bed that smelled of someone else's soap.

I had read the drive twice in the dark, and then I had put it in a drawer.

I did not cry.

The wide glass table was full.

Nine elders sat along one side, silver heads and heavy jackets, the old wolves who vote on everything Broderick wants.

Broderick sat at the head with Blair at his right hand.

Derrick stood against the wall, and he did not look at me.

"Keira," Broderick said. "Good. Sit. We're handing Phoenix to Blair today. I want the elders to hear that you agree."

He did not ask whether I agreed.

I sat down in the chair at the far end, the one where they put the people who bring the coffee.

My phone buzzed against my knee.

Orson had written: Watch his right hand.

I looked.

Broderick's gold ring was turning on his finger, round and round.

He did that when he was not sure of the room.

Blair stood up and smoothed her skirt.

She was beautiful in daylight, and she talked as easily as she breathed.

She spoke about the river, the four thousand homes, the glass and the green roofs, and the elders nodded in all the right places.

It was my speech.

It was the speech I had written in a notebook in the back of a taxi, word for word, and she had it by heart.

"And the first phase breaks ground in March," she finished, with her warm bright smile. "Any questions?"

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