Terminal Four
There was no what. There was no Marcus, what are you talking about.
My mother’s voice came back after about six seconds at a lower pitch than she normally uses, entirely level, in the tone she used for staffing problems, and what she said was:
“Don’t do anything.
Bring her to the office.
Their mother should have known her place six years ago and it is time this was finished properly.”
I did not say anything.
She said, “Marcus?”