ELLIOT
“She wants to meet them.”
Zara said it from the backseat with the complete certainty of someone who had made a decision and was communicating it as established fact rather than request. She was looking at the window with the focused expression she wore when she had been thinking about something for longer than the current conversation had existed.
“Vivienne and James,” she said. “The ones from the newspaper. The ones whose father made the medicine.” She paused. “I told my friend at school that there were people whose father made something important and it got stolen and now it is going back. She said that is like a story. I said it is not like a story. It is real.” She turned from the window and looked at him in the rearview mirror. “I want to meet the real people.”
He thought a
