It was a sickeningly sunny Saturday.
London suddenly remembered what it was like to be a postcard: clear skies, steady light, neat shadows on the pavement. This day was perfect for walks, picnics and family photos.
And it was totally unsuitable for a trip to the monster for negotiations.
I wasn't dressed for a funeral or a charity dinner.
Dark blue slacks, white shirt, thin black sweater on top. Her hair is pulled back in a low ponytail. Minimal makeup. No mourning, no glamour. I didn't want to look like a "princess" or a "victim," but like what I was today: a party to the bargain.
Travis was waiting at the door.
Also without a suit, but neat to the point of boredom. A watch, a coat, and a well-adjusted collar. The face is the one that cameras love so much: collected, confident, with
