I had almost always taken a side chair and let Daniel sit at the center of the mahogany table.

He liked the geography of power.

He liked people to look toward him when a question was asked, even when the answer lived in my folder.

That day my place was set at the head of the table.

I paused before I sat.

I remembered something my mother told me shortly before she died.

“You do not have to shout to hold authority, Audrey.

But never confuse peace with silence.”