I stared at her.

“You don’t understand the people involved.”

“I understand enough to know that your reputation makes witnesses less likely to talk.

If you care about Ms.

Campbell, let them talk to us instead.”

I saw Hannah in my mind, sitting at our dining table with her feet tucked beneath her and a mug of tea warming her hands.

She had once told me that power was meaningless if the person holding it could not bear to hear no.

“My office building has an archive room on the thirty-eighth floor,” I said.