“Move,” I said, “or the next thing this records is unlawful confinement.” I watched him weigh it — watched the executive in him run the calculation and arrive, a half-second later, at the only answer the math allowed.

He stepped aside.

As Catalina and I walked out, he called after us that I would regret humiliating him.

I closed the door without looking back, and said, quietly enough that only she could hear it, “No.

You will.”

In the elevator she began to shake, a delayed tremor moving through her whole body.