The Credits

Chapter 6: The Seam

Nora called at 9:40 on a Tuesday morning. I was already at the studio with headphones around my neck, so I took it in the hallway, where the new paint still hadn't worn off the stairwell and the air smelled like nothing had lived in it yet. Through the glass I could see Adrian in the control room with the playback running. He was spinning a pen between two fingers and not looking at me, which is how I knew he was listening.

"Two-point-four million," Nora said. "Installments, not to exceed five years. And on the criminal side — one year, suspended, two years probation. Unlawful restraint and assault."

I leaned against the wall.

"June."

"I'm here."

"Do you want me to read you the language?"

"No."

"Then I'll send a copy by courier this afternoon. There's a signature page for you."

"Okay."

She stopped for a second, the way she does when she's holding one more thing and deciding whether it belongs in the same conversation.

"The appeal window is thirty days," she said. "If Sophie files, the money doesn't move. I want you to know that going in."

"I know."

"You don't have it yet."

"I know, Nora."

"All right." She hung up first, which she always does.

I went back into the control room. Adrian had stopped the track and was rewinding it with the shuttle wheel. On the console, the three green lights above the compressor, the small amber talkback light. The foam on the wall had a seam running down it where a sheet had been replaced after somebody put a chair through it, and the seam was the only thing in the room that wasn't symmetrical.

He let the rewind run to the top and pressed stop.

"Two-four," he said. "Hers, not yours. Suspended sentence."

"Two-four."

"She made more than that off the tour."

"It's what it is."

"It's what the court says it is." He pulled the headphones down around his neck and looked at me for the first time since I came back in. "Happy?"

I sat on the couch. Same couch it had always been, with the arm worn smooth where he rested his forearm during takes.

"Done," I said.

He nodded once, pressed play, and we listened to the second chorus again.