She told him that evening with the same care she'd taken with the Pereira letter — letting it land before speaking around it.
He was quiet for longer than she'd expected. The specific long quiet of someone managing something with dimensions he hadn't been prepared for.
"She called you directly," he said.
"Yes."
"Not her lawyer. Not through Rafael."
"No."
He turned his wine glass. "And you answered."
"I answer calls. It's a practice I have."
He looked at her. The almost-smile was not available for this particular sentence, but something adjacent moved across his face. "How was she?"
Camila thought about it. "Honest," she said. "Or as close to honest as she can currently get. I don't think she was performing — which was unusual. Her performing has always had a specific quality and t
