"Yes. Harlow's handling it."
"Eleanor will want to speak before the formal notification. To the council specifically."
"I know. I've already spoken to her. She's calling an informal session tomorrow at seven AM before the notification goes at nine."
He looked at me.
"You called Eleanor," he said.
"Last night," I said. "After you were asleep. I knew she'd want the council to hear it from her first." I held his gaze. "She agreed. She was awake. She said she had been awake since four and was glad I called."
He was quiet for a moment.
"She's eighty-one," he said.
"She's Eleanor," I said. "She'll be awake at four for the rest of her life and she'll be glad about it."
The corner of his mouth. The full version.
We reached the car. He opened my door — not the managed gesture of the early
