Here is a list of things I did on Monday to prepare for Tuesday:
One — I reviewed Simone's USB drive a second time, cross-referencing the email chain against every financial transfer record until the timeline of Richard Voss's coordination with Eleanor Cole was so clear I could have drawn it on a napkin with my eyes closed.
Two — I practised what I was going to say. Not scripted — scripted people flinch when the other person doesn't say their line — but is structured. Three things. In order. And two things I would not say regardless of how the conversation went.
Three — I ate a proper dinner. My mother made moi moi. I ate it like a person with a functioning relationship with her own wellbeing, which I was actively working to become.
Four — I laid out my clothes. The cognac-brown blazer
