“It truly wasn’t that exciting,” I say. “I really hope that my phone is in the office, though. I don’t have time to wait in line at the Apple store. I’ve got a meeting with the DA first thing this morning, and I imagine whatever we’re talking about is going to occupy the rest of my day too.”

I look at my son, who has as much butter on his face as the toast. I lean over to kiss Jacob on the head, and then Stuart on the lips.

“I love you both,” I say and then race out the door.

Google Maps will tell you that I can make it from my house to One Hogan Place in forty-four minutes. It’s wrong, as it almost always takes me at least an hour. More when there are subway problems, which is most every day.

One Hogan Place—building and address—are named for Frank Hogan, who served as Manhattan DA for almost thirty years and was known as Mr. Integrity. That descriptor wouldn’t be applied to the current officeholder, unless it was meant ironically.

Manhattan District Attorney Drake McKenney is much more of a politician than a prosecutor. He practiced criminal law as an ADA for four years, but that was more than twenty-five years before he sought the top spot at the office. It’s well known that he ran for DA because the job was open, not out of any desire to further the mission of the office. Now he makes all decisions with an eye toward how it will play when he runs for mayor in three years.

When I arrive at my office, I literally throw my coat and purse onto my desk. My purse hits the target, but my coat falls to the floor. I leave it there rather than make Drake McKenney wait another second longer.

Before I make my way upstairs to the eighth floor, his domain, I walk by Lauren’s office, even though it’s the opposite way from the elevators. Her door is shut, as it usually is before she arrives—but also any time she’s in a meeting. Rita is attending to something on her iPhone.

“Is Lauren in yet?” I ask.

“Haven’t seen her,” Rita says, barely looking up from her texting.

“I got called into a meeting on eight. Any idea what that’s about?”

Rita shakes her head.

“Do you know if Lauren was invited?”

“I don’t. But maybe that’s where she is now.”

To get to the office of the District Attorney, I have to navigate a separate set of security guards. After clearing that checkpoint, I finally arrive in front of McKenney’s assistant. She’s the last gatekeeper.

“I got an e-mail that Mr. McKenney wanted to see me,” I say. “My name is Dana Goodwin.”

“He’s in there,” she says. “Go right on in.”