The car is a bubble.
Black glass.
Tinted.
Secure.
Separate.
Outside, London rushes.
Red buses.
Black cabs.
People with umbrellas.
Rain.
Gray.
Fast.
Inside, it is quiet.
Leather seats.
Climate control.
Hum of the engine.
Low.
Steady.
Eleanor sits between us.
Drawing.
On a tablet.
Stylus.
Scratch.
Swipe.
Color.
She does not look out.
She does not care.
The outside is noise.
The inside is safety.
Marcus checks his watch.
Ten minutes.
To the venue.
Bookstore.
Central.
Crowded.
Public.
He looks at me.
Eyes checking.
Scanning.
Assessing.
You okay.
Yes.
Nervous.
Yes.
Good.
He takes my hand.
Squeezes.
Warm.
Dry.
Firm.
Remember the terms.
I know.
No personal questions.
I know.
No photos of her.
I know.
Security handles it.
Yes.
I breathe.
I
