“I wanted to figure it out for myself first.” John heard the defensive note in his own voice and winced.

Very quietly Rob said, “You haven’t talked to Angie since you got this letter on Tuesday evening?”

“Now, wait—”

“Since Tuesday,” Rob repeated. “A good part of which you spent with Angie in my spare bedroom.”

John closed his eyes. “Look. The whole town thinks I’m getting married the day after tomorrow, and I can’t call the wedding off because the bride has run away. What exactly am I supposed to say to Angie?”

Rob got up and began to pace. “I want you to listen to me now, and carefully. My advice is, go find Angie and tell her what’s going on. Leave not one detail—not one—out. Show her the letter, and run through every reaction you’ve had. Then throw yourself on the mercy of the court, and maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll pull your ass out of the fire with nothing more than a few blisters. I hope you do, but you’re going to have to work at it.”

A pulse picked up in John’s temple, not because he was angry, or at least he wasn’t angry at his brother. His heart was racing because he knew the truth when he heard it. He swallowed. “I’ve got to be at this alumni thing in a half hour.”

“Then you had best get a move on,” Rob said.

At the door John hesitated. “I’m going to need all the help I can get these next two days.”

Rob said, “You know where to find me.”

It took every bit of persuasion she could muster, but Angie managed to get the whole crew into the editing suite by seven on Thursday morning.

The novelty of working in such a well-equipped and comfortable space put them all in a good mood. They could spread out logbooks, files, computers, and their personal gear, along with an array of cups and carryout bags. Best of all, they had enough computing power and no restrictions on how much of it they used, or how long they spent here. That was such a luxury that it took Angie a full hour before she relaxed enough to stop constantly looking at her watch.

Big companies with large staffs allocated the logging to assistants, but Angie liked everything about this part of the process. Most of all, she loved the working together and the talk about the story while the digital counter at the bottom of the screen ticked along steadily. The entire time she scribbled, writing down minimal information about the scene and its location while Tony did the same on a laptop.

Markus wanted to know if Rivera was going to take notes, too, at which she flexed her fingers in the air like a surgeon wiggling into sterile gloves.