When George Abe was fourteen, his father began taking him to business meetings. He would sit quietly in the corner and listen. Afterward, his father would quiz him on the particulars. George was allowed to ask questions, and his father would explain his tactics. In this way, George learned the principles of negotiation and the art of reading situations. One of his father’s principles was never to ask a question unless absolutely necessary.

“Wait,” his father had cautioned. “Never ask a question in surprise. You will give yourself away. Wait. Think. Often the answers will be given to you.”

George watched Calista, working to piece together what her presence meant. Contemplating how deep her betrayal ran. When it began. Masking both his anger and his deepening fear for his people, who he knew now were in terrible danger. He would not allow his concern to make it easier to threaten him.

“Oh, George, spare me your meditative samurai pose. We haven’t the time.”

“What do we have time for?”

“A few questions, perhaps.”

“Ask them, then.”

Calista smiled. “That’s what I admire about you. You’ve taken Asian inscrutability and worn it like a badge of honor.”

“Clearly, I still have much to learn from you.”

“Yes, I suppose you do.”

“At least now I know what happened to my offices.”

“Yes, well, that. After consulting with my attorneys, we felt it prudent to liquidate Abe Consulting Group and write it off as a loss. For tax purposes, you see.”

“I do. And I’m impressed. That must have taken some planning.”

“Years of it,” she said.

Years? How could that be? What exactly was Calista planning?

“So, how is Benjamin?” he asked.

Her face brightened like an actress who had forgotten her line and had just been fed her cue. “In the past few hours, Benjamin and I have come to an understanding.”

“About Suzanne?”

“About a great many things,” she said.

“And you think that wise?”

“Things will be different this time. He and I understand each other now.”

George studied her. “What is it you want?”

“For Benjamin to be president.”

“And what do you get out of it?”

“Everything my family has earned.”

“And me? Do I wind up like Michael? Is that what I’ve earned?”

“Who on earth is Michael?”

“The man lying here!” George spat, his anger finally eclipsing his will. “The man your new partners just murdered.”

Calista looked down at the body as if noticing the dead man for the first time. “That was unavoidable.”

“And Jenn Charles? Dan Hendricks? Gibson Vaughn? Are their murders ‘unavoidable’?”

“It’s an imperfect world, George. Evelyn understood that.”

Evelyn Furst? Was she that profoundly evil? “What have you done?”

Calista looked away. “Sacrifices had to be made.”

“My God. Your own sister. And what about Pennsylvania? Suzanne?”

“Suzanne isn’t in Pennsylvania.”