Worthy of it
CASPIAN I don’t know what I expected. I’ve been turning this over since last night — since I stood in the anteroom doorway watching Farah cross the room to her mother with the specific quality of movement that belongs to a person going somewhere they have been trying to get to for a very long time. What I felt watching it is something I am still working out the shape of. Her mother’s name is Sena. Small, composed, direct. She walked into my stronghold alone on nothing but the possibility that her daughter might be here, and I find this, against my own expectations, deeply admirable. Marcus arrives at eight and sits across my desk and says: “Her mother.” “Yes,” I say. “You let her in.” “Yes.” He drops whatever he was going to say and just says: “Right call.” He pauses. “How i
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