“Can you give me any information that might help me draw him out on that score?” I ask. “For instance, does Talebi work for the bank? If so, perhaps I should start by asking him about his coworkers in a more general sense before zeroing in. Or maybe he’s a client? Should I start by asking him about his accounts? Or—”

“Just ask him why he wants to know whether or not I mentioned the name Talebi,” Travis says impatiently. “He’s the one who brought it up, right? You don’t need any better excuse to ask him about it than that.”

I nod, quietly tucking away my disappointment.

Travis looks at his watch. “I have to get back to the office.”

“Wait,” I say, taking a step forward. “I wanted to ask you . . . I, um . . . Do you think I did a good job last night?”

“What are you talking about?”

“As a translator for Javier. Despite being bilingual, I’ve never actually acted as a translator before. Did I perform satisfactorily? What about Javier? Is he happy with how the information was relayed?”

I watch Travis’s face carefully, looking for any sign that he might know something that he’s not letting on.

But instead he just shakes his head again and pushes past me. “Trust me, Bell, if I have a problem with your performance you won’t have to ask.”

I sit down on the sofa as Travis exits and try to stave off dizziness.

Moments after I hear the front door open and close Jessica comes in. “I’d like you to leave early today.”

“Jessica, the way Mr. Gable behaved . . . It wasn’t based on any encouragement I’ve given him. I would never—”

Jessica holds up her hand to stop me. I notice that the cocktail glass that was half empty before is now completely drained. “Just go,” she says softly.

Without another word I get up and gather my things. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning at ten,” I say, and when Jessica doesn’t answer I make a quiet exit, secretly thankful for the respite.

A few blocks from my home I find Mary sitting on the sidewalk. She has a whole stack of coloring books now, two boxes of colored pencils, and a small sharpener, all stacked and lined up with the precision you would expect from a preschool teacher preparing for class.

As I step up to her she flashes me a big smile. “Hi, I’m Mary.”

“I know,” I say quietly.