I woke up on Saturday morning to three things: a text from Ethan saying Noah had already
arrived and they had found the architectural models and could they please have more time
because the load distribution on the east wing was, quote, very interesting. A text from
Adrian saying he had no idea children could be this focused and was slightly concerned they
had forgotten to eat. And a voicemail from a number I didn’t recognize, left at six fifty-two
in the morning, from a man who introduced himself as a representative of a private client
and said his client would very much like to arrange a meeting with Ms. Bennett at her earliest
convenience.
The voicemail was polite. Measured. The kind of message that costs a great deal of care
to construct.
I played it twice. Then I called Dani
