I bought one more small coffee and walked to the Post’s office. Here in the city, the world seemed bigger. Dramas were diminished. I needed to focus, to push my nerves aside and turn “on.”

After signing in and getting a badge, I waited in the lobby for Bettina’s friend Sharita. When the elevator doors opened, a stylish woman, lanyard around her neck, emerged. She gave a jaunty wave, swiping her security badge as she pushed through the turnstile toward me.

“Theresa. I’m Sharita. I’m sorry it took so long. Had a call that went on longer than I expected. Did you find us okay?” She helped me sign in and whisked me into the elevator, talking as though on a timer that was about to run out.

“Yes. Thanks so much for putting in a good word for me.”

This was how it worked. Hadn’t Greg said as much? It was all about who you knew. That didn’t guarantee you anything, but it got you in the door.

“Of course.” She smiled. “Any friend of Bettina’s is a friend of mine. Even if she’s living a million miles away from me, the big jerk. I always knew when she got married she would rush out into the suburbs.” She laughed and paused to catch her breath.

“How long have you known her?” I asked as we left the elevator. We passed one of the newsrooms, where reporters sat at long tables, typing furiously on their laptops, headphones on to shut out distractions. Above them, a line of muted televisions were tuned to various news stations. There was a steady hum of energy, the sense that important things were happening.

Sharita led me inside a conference room. “An eternity? Ha. No, since college. We were in the same sorority. Sisters for life, right? That girl knows all my embarrassing moments. It’s a good thing I know hers, too.” She chuckled and opened the blinds, letting light into the room. “But anyway, you like living there, right? She’s always telling me how wonderful it is. Good group of friends.”

If she lived in Ivy Woods, she’d realize it was more than just good.

I knew I hadn’t entirely earned my place yet. I’d seen them disappear inside Bettina’s house during the birthday party without me. But, as Mom always said, You may deserve the best, Theresa, but you still have to work for it.

And I was willing to work.

First step? Acing this interview. Proving that I could capitalize on a favor just as well as I could ask for one.

A rap on the door, and an older man poked his head in and introduced himself as Ben, followed by four others, two men and two women, all dressed much more casually than me. Panel interview. Great.