Celeste Arnaud's kitchen is the kitchen of someone who lives in the present tense.
No excess. No performance of domesticity. A table, four chairs, a window facing the garden, the smell of coffee from a pot that has been on for a while. She pours two cups without asking the specific hospitality of someone who needs something to do with their hands while deciding how much to say. She sits across from us. She wraps both hands around her own cup. She waits.
"The regulatory process began four days ago," Faye says. "The documentation submitted covers the full operational network, the seventh node, and the secondary accounts. The asset seizure is active." She pauses. "The cooperation framework Marre's lawyers filed contained a family declaration. One living child." She meets Celeste's eyes. "Th
