Chapter 12: Audition

Graham lived on the ninth floor of a building near his office.

He opened the door at six in the morning in a grey t-shirt and sweatpants.

He looked at my soaked sweater and the mud on my slippers.

He didn't make a joke.

"He told you to ask me," he said.

"Who set up the Friday talk?"

He stepped back and let me in.

His apartment was all steel and glass, with nothing on the walls and one lamp on.

I didn't sit.

"Warren did," Graham said.

The words went into me and didn't land anywhere.

"Say that again."

"Ten days before that Friday he asked the three of us to meet him at the site."

He rubbed his face.

"He wanted us in the den, with the door open, saying out loud what we really thought about you."

"What you really thought."

"All of it. Where you could hear."

"And you said yes."

"Owen said no first. He said it wasn't fair to you. Warren said he knew, and Owen came anyway, to keep us in line."

"And Caleb?"

"Caleb said nothing, which for Caleb is yes." Graham looked at the floor. "I said yes, because I'm a coward who wanted it said."

"Why did Warren want it?"

"He wouldn't tell us. He said you needed to hear it, and he couldn't be the one to say it."

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