“It doesn’t look easy, your job,” said Lissa mildly.

“I know,” said Anita, as little shoes pattered overhead. “I’m sorry . . .”

Lissa shook her head. “Actually,” she said cheerfully, “turning off my social media . . . it really helped.”

“Did it?” Anita brightened.

“Yup. And so did you telling me to go over it in my head.”

“Did you?”

“No, but I thought the idea was solid. So . . .”

Outside Anita’s door a taxi honked its horn and her face fell.

“Tell me quickly,” said Lissa.

“It’s quite strong,” said Anita.

“I don’t care. Call it efficient and I’ll give you a good feedback form.”

“That would be good,” said Anita, looking stressed.

There was a pause.

“Okay,” she said, then took a deep breath. “If you don’t go over this right now, out loud, whether to me or somebody else, this is your last chance. You’ll be in the witness-box. And the perpetrator is going to be staring straight at you. Possibly his mates will be there. Staring at you. Threatening you. I’m not trying to scare you, Lissa. But what if you freeze? Clam up?”

“Oh, actually this is quite harsh,” said Lissa.

The honking grew louder. Anita paused.

“I won’t freeze,” said Lissa suddenly.

“You might.”

Lissa blinked back tears. All at once, the gray day outside the window didn’t look soft and welcoming: it looked ominous and oppressive.

“And I have to warn you. You could cause a mistrial or let the offender go free, if you can’t explain clearly what you saw.”

Lissa could barely speak; the lump in her throat was huge.

Upstairs, Anita’s children were yelling their heads off. Anita leaned forward.

“Lissa, I have black sons. One day you might too. The streets of the city have to be safe for them. You know that. You know that, right?”

And her voice was intense and serious and not at all distracted. All Lissa could do was back away from her gaze, nodding slowly. The taxi honked for the last time, and Anita straightened up.

“And now I have to go,” she said, and Lissa simply nodded.

THERE WAS ANOTHER honking sound, and Lissa belatedly realized it was her own cab. Her heart was racing. She knew Anita was right. She knew. But suddenly it seemed harder than ever.

Chapter 60

I won’t know what you look like, Lissa had typed as she set off for London, after she’d been driven through a bright and golden dawn.