Chapter 18: Disclosure

On Monday at eight in the morning, Drake and I knocked on Odette's door together.

"Come," she said.

Her office is on the corner of the fourth floor, with a drafting table instead of a desk and a view of the railyard.

Laney was already sitting there on a stool, with a legal pad on her knee and a lanyard full of pins.

Her round face was perfectly blank.

It is the face she wears when she knows something and has promised not to smile.

"You're early," said Odette.

"We have something to tell you," I said.

"Sit."

We sat on the low leather couch with a foot of space between us, which Odette looked at and said nothing about.

"Go," she said.

I had a speech, again.

I had three paragraphs on the order of events, the Wager, the whiteboard, and the policy that does and does not apply.

Drake cleared his throat.

"Odette. We're together," he said. "Roz and I. Since the night of September twenty-first."

I shut my mouth.

"It started in the archive. It wasn't a plan. It's gone on since."

"It's not a secret anymore, because Kip has a printout."

"A printout of what?" said Odette.

"A spreadsheet," I said. "We called it Variance Q4."

"Ah," said Odette.

"We bet on it," said Drake. "We made rules. Not about the seat. The seat is off the table, in writing."

"I read the rules," said Odette.

I stared at her.

"Kip sent them to me on Friday, as 'a concern,'" she said. "I read them twice."

"There's a good rule about work. Number five."

"Thank you," said Drake, faintly.

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