Had Ted thought about Phoebe at all these past two years, as Jerry’s victims dominated the headlines? How could he not have, and yet Zanne doubted it.

But if she left—refused the promotion, handed in her resignation—who would suffer? Not Ted, who would find someone else to do his bidding. Not Mark, whose self-confidence only seemed to grow with each new indignity heaped on his plate. Not Erin, who would survive them all, whose enduring strength was how little she thought of herself.

No, Zanne would not leave. Just be smart, she told herself. She would not become emotionally invested in the Stablers. She would expect less of them, not more, and she would keep that promotion.

For months after she was first hired, she’d had a speech ready to deliver if she needed it, the burn-it-all-down-and-quit speech about the perils of privilege and the value of respect among unequals. But the trick, she’d always known, would be not to need it, nor to get provoked into an invective against CEO compensation figures and Hollywood’s treatment of women, minorities, and the working poor, nor to suggest that if someone in Ted’s position wanted to make a real difference in the world, he could send his kids to public school, not just bankroll a documentary every now and again.

Zanne had had years of practice with Noah and thought she could restrain herself in her dealings with Ted, too. Abjection took many forms.

She saw now that what she needed was a speech for herself. You will not shoot yourself in the foot. You will not let someone else leave with your money. You will dance with your beautiful girlfriend and then take her home. When Gaby got back, Zanne would apologize and try again. She would show her the house in Mar Vista one more time. It was nothing to be afraid of. It was modest, perfect for a couple but easy to rent to a young family if they ever needed the income, a sound investment. It wouldn’t chain Zanne to this job; in time, it would free her from it.

She went back inside the cottage, just in time to see the door to Ted’s office open and Phoebe exit alone. Zanne craned her head to see if Ted would be handling the farewell as personally as he had the welcome, but it seemed not.

“I’ll see you out,” Zanne said.

Phoebe stepped onto the porch first, the sunlight haloing around her like it was claiming her. Zanne followed, and they walked together up the knoll, past the pool house to the terrace, where everything was almost ready. Mark was screwing together an easel next to the train track. On the table next to him was a foam core sign that would rest on it: All Aboard! Take a Ride on the Pump Car Express. The track changed to “Baby, I Love Your Way.”