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I sit alone in my office. No screens, no gadgets, nothing. I stare straight ahead, searching for clarity.

Then the door opens and Margo walks in, a steaming mug in her hand. “Am I disturbing you?” she asks.

“How can I be any more disturbed than I already am?” I retort, then regret my tone when I see her searching for the hint of a smile on my face.

She doesn’t find it. There’ll be no joy in this house tonight. She lets a few seconds pass and then speaks.

“Listen,” Margo says. “I overheard what you said toMaddy. I just wanted you to know that I think you handled it really well.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I say.

“That was a tough conversation,” Margo says.

“And a worse situation,” I tell her. “Maddy’s got to learn… she’s got to learn so many things if she is going to help me straighten things out in this tough world. The powers she’s being trained in are both a blessing and a curse. She’s got to proceed with speed and caution.”

“Speed and caution are not always the best partners,” Margo says.

“I appreciate your concern,” I say. “Maddy has so much potential. I just want it all to develop properly. Today was clear proof that she’s not ready.”

There is silence. Margo reaches out and holds my hand. My fingers wrap around hers, and I finally find a small amount of comfort, but I don’t want to mislead her into believing that everything is better now.

“I need to tell you something,” I say.

Need.To Margo, that’s a frightening word coming from me. Someone who presents himself, even to those I love most, as private. Thoughtful and strong.

“What is it?” she asks.

“I will never get over Jericho’s death.”

Another silence. All she can do is hold my hand even tighter.

CHAPTER 6

MADDY’S FIRST DAY in the public defender’s office is not going well. She dreads the moment when she gets home and Margo and Lamont ask her the inevitable questions, “So, how’d it go? How was your first day?”

Her half-a-lie response will be, “It was interesting.”

She knows Lamont thinks her summer would be better spent working in Tibet developing her mental and physical powers. So she will adjust her answer quite a bit. The truthful response would be, “It sucked big-time.”

Her day consists of taking orders from anyone in the office. She makes the coffee in the big coffee machine and then makes more when people complain that the pot’s empty. She fetches sandwiches for lunch and takes the blame when the deli screws up one of the orders. She formats hundreds of PowerPoint presentations. When one particularly snotty young paralegal asks her to pick up his copies, Maddy says, “You must be kidding. The printer is ten feet from your desk.” He doesn’t even look at her when he replies, “Yeah, but you’re the one standing up already.”

Finally she’s had enough and decides to speak up. A risky move. Her immediate supervisor, R.J. Werner, is a whip-smart Yale Law School graduate only a few years older than she is. During her interview—serious, quick, and very annoying—he told her, “My work philosophy is very simple. Do it by the book or don’t bother doing it.”

She doesn’t know if “by the book” means getting walked all over, but if that’s the case, she’d like to throw that particular book at his head. Summoning up all her nerve, she knocks on his door.

“Something wrong?” he asks. Then adds, “Already?”

“I thought this job would be a chance to learn social work and criminal law,” she says, holding her hands behind her back so R.J. can’t see how much they are shaking.

“So far, all I’ve been doing is household chores and delivering packages,” she says. “I’m not learning anything, except everyone’s coffee order.”

“I getcha,” R.J. says. And Maddy thinks for a moment that he does indeed “get her.”

Maybe R.J. is a reasonable, decent person under that ridiculously businesslike exterior.

“That’s good to hear,” says Maddy.

Then R.J. says, “Don’t get too excited. I’m going to give you an actual assignment. But it entails taking the subway, going to a really miserable place, and, most likely, dealing with a rude, unpleasant person.”