“Welcome home, by the way.” Zula wasn’t certain whether “welcome home” or “welcome back” was the right phrase for someone who had been living on the other side of the country for three years, but she wasn’t above dropping a hint. She stood up and smiled. Sophia did likewise. They came together and embraced and held each other for a little while. After a few moments Zula opened her eyes and happened to catch sight of Marcus Hobbs, out in the hallway, clearly visible through the glass door of her office. He was stopped in midstride, gobsmacked and a little dismayed by the sight of the boss engaging in a public display of affection with an intern candidate who had only just crossed the threshold of her office. Zula winked at him and indicated with a wave of the hand that he should approach.

Oblivious to all of this, Sophia relaxed her arms and took half a step back. “I passed through Iowa on the way,” she said. “Visited the farm. Mended fences with the rellies.”

“I look forward to hearing about it,” Zula said. “First you have some explaining to do.” She nodded at the door as Marcus walked in.

“Mr. Hobbs! Hello again,” Sophia said, snapping into a polite businesslike manner in a way that made Zula feel that, while raising her, she must have done something right.

“Sophia? Is that how you still prefer to be addressed?” Marcus asked.

“Yes, that is my actual name,” Sophia said. It was common for people using PURDAH to link them to nicknames. “Mom and Dad picked it out. I’m happy to use it here.”

Marcus looked at Zula. “So I have the pleasure of addressing your daughter.”

“Nice to meet you for reals,” Sophia said, and extended her hand. Marcus shook it, sizing her up in a new light.

“You wanted to work here over the summer,” Marcus guessed, “but you didn’t want to be seen as having got the job through family connections, so you did everything anonymously.”

“Yeah. Worked great until this lady blew my cover,” Sophia said, nodding at her mother.

“Well, I can tell you in all honesty that I am completely surprised.”

Zula laughed. “I saw that much in your face, Marcus.”

“So, just in case there are any lingering doubts, Sophia got the job fair and square, and I’m happy to say as much if anyone raises any questions.” Marcus was talking in that diction peculiar to lawyers. He was, in other words, doing his job. Zula had come to depend on him. She had first met him on the day after Dodge had been stricken. He was the junior associate who had shown up in Alice’s hotel suite, acting as Stan Peterson’s wingman. After his stint at Argenbright Vail, he had begun putting his legal powers to use in the service of nonprofit organizations, and ended up here.

“Noted,” Zula said.