Chapter 2
Brandon tugged at his tie. He’d gone to his share of protests, back as an undergrad when he’d been young and strong and believed that marching around and shouting could change the world.
When the other partners had suggested that “the firm” put in an appearance at the rally, he’d known what they meant, or rather, who they meant. He couldn’t exactly see old man Byrnes out here in his three-piece suit, and he couldn’t visualize the robotic Sellers out here either. There might be other partners, but none of them fit the description of “part of that community” the way Brandon did. He’d grabbed Mitchell and a couple of the associates—he thought their names might be Wilson and King—and a pile of business cards and headed down. He might not enjoy this part of the job, but he knew his
