The city was ordinary when we came out of the Carrington building. That was the thing I noticed most. Cars moving. People on the pavement with their coats pulled against the October cold. A coffee vendor at the corner who had no idea what had just happened on the seventh floor of the building behind me. The sky the same grey-gold it had been through the conference room windows. The world did not mark it. It never did. The significant things happened in rooms and the world outside the rooms continued without acknowledgment and that was simply how it was. The marking came later, in the smaller, private ways that mattered more than any public notation. Nora came out beside me. She had the documentation cases in both hands, which was typical of her. The proceedings ended and she was alr

