ELEANOR RECEIVE A CALL
Eleanor received the call at eight fifty-three.
She was in the main house — not the security room, not her office. She was in the private sitting room where she had placed the box on the table in front of Glande the previous morning, sitting in the same chair, drinking coffee from a cup that had gone slightly cold while she worked through the correspondence on her laptop. The specific unhurried efficiency of a woman who had arranged something and was now simply waiting for confirmation that the arrangement had been carried out.
Her phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
The driver.
She picked up.
"Yes," she said.
A pause on the other end — the specific pause of someone preparing to deliver information they are not certain will be received well.
"She hasn't co
