The meeting was at two in the afternoon in a formal conference room on the second floor, neutral ground, chosen because it belonged to neither side and therefore belonged to both.
Nkechi had briefed us for an hour beforehand. Not reassurance, information. The shape of the conversation, the likely moves, what each one meant. By the time we walked in I knew what was coming before a word had been spoken.
The duke was already there. Two lawyers flanking him. He had arrived first, taken the chair that faced the door. He understood that the room was part of the negotiation.
I took the chair directly across from him. Adrián to my left. Nkechi to my right.
The duke looked at me when I sat down. The warm smile, controlled, not afraid.
I looked back. I gave him nothing.
His lead lawyer opened.
