I had come here intending to declare a possible war and instead ended up planning a dinner date with my father at Applebee’s. There was only one Applebee’s that had survived the Shift in Atlanta. The chain had started in Decatur, Georgia, in the 1980s, and a single restaurant bearing the name still stood there, claiming to be the first and original Applebee’s.

I would have to go to dinner. Stopping by the local office was a threat. I wasn’t sure if Ghastek and Rowena knew it, but I understood his message crystal clear. It was up to me how this surprise inspection would go and how many heads would roll because of it.

For a man who hadn’t been sure I existed for most of my life, my father got my number very fast.

Ghastek leaned back and crossed his arms. “I had a promising career. I had achieved recognition and some infinitesimal measure of security. And then you came along.”

Aha. He and the dozens of hostages working in this building could cry me a river. “Who taught you to draw, Ghastek? That doesn’t even remotely look like an apple. It looks like a butt.”

“More like a peach,” Rowena said.

“I have an inspection in less than twenty-four hours,” Ghastek said, his voice dry. “If we have quite finished critiquing my ability to draw fruit, I have things to do.”

I leaned back. “Are you worried about it?”

He looked insulted. “No. We can be inspected at any point, and we would stand up to scrutiny.”

“If you are anxious, I can make sure he eats something deliciously sweet before he comes over here. Like a generous helping of tres leches cake or a chocolate sundae.”

Ghastek stared at me. “Get out.”

I rose and made a show of sniffling. “Come on, Julie. Clearly we are not wanted here.”

“I will show you out,” Rowena said.

I went to the door, turned, and looked at Ghastek. My father had my number, but I was his daughter and I had made a career out of studying him.

“You keep thinking of him as a god. He is a man. He loves life and he pays attention to every moment. Each second is filled with endless wonder for him. He notices the texture of the couch under his fingertips and the color of the tea in his cup. This is how he stays alive, because if he ever grows bored and disillusioned with the world, he will become a shadow of his former self and die, just like my aunt. Treat him as a man. If you want to make a good impression, don’t do a big official welcome. Meet him yourself and make sure to afford him the small, everyday courtesies.”

I walked out.

•   •   •

“CAN I SPEAK to you in private?” Rowena asked under her breath as we walked into the lobby. “Outside?”