The easy amusement was draining out of her face.

“Gerald, what’s happening?” she asked.

“Be quiet,” he snapped, waving a hand at her without looking, the way he’d waved off everyone who had ever tried to speak while he was thinking.

But this time she didn’t smile and fall silent.

This time she just stared at him, and I watched the first real crack run through the pair of them — not fear yet, only the pure irritation of two people whose easy performance had stopped following the script.

“He looks terrified,” I whispered to Miriam.