Chapter 8
I study Sally Warner's expression and body language, and I remember to show my cordial face. White people sometimes see what I think is my neutral expression as hostile. Looking at her, my initial thought is sad. Immediately followed by: suspect. Sad suspect…that's a first.
“How are you, Corporal Killian?”
“Well, ma'am. And you?”
She's wearing a blue flowery top, a small pattern, which flows around her when she moves and drops past her knees over white slacks. Her white-blonde hair still looks as nice as it did this morning, but her eyes look puffy. Has she been crying?
“I'm—I'm okay. Thank you.” She gestures towards the sofa and chair. “I'd be happier at home, though I understand why I'm not allowed to be there. Please sit down.”
Her hotel room is elegant, probably the bes
