The federal building at one AM had the particular quality of a place where serious things happened at all hours and nobody was surprised by it.
Reyes met us in the lobby. She looked like someone running on determination and inadequate coffee, which described most of the people in this building at that hour. She walked us to a room smaller than the usual conference rooms: an interview room, functional, two chairs on one side of a table and one on the other.
Lena was in the single chair.
She looked like someone who had made a decision and was sitting inside the consequences of it. Not frightened. The folder was on the table in front of her, closed, her hands resting on top of it.
She looked at me when I came in. Not at Adrian. Not at Reyes. At me.
I sat down. Adrian remained standing ne
