Chapter 23 — Here I Am

“He wants my seat empty,” Ifeoma said, looking at the summons on her tablet.

“Then don’t leave it empty,” Emeka said.

On the morning of the vote, the board gathered in the top-floor conference room.

Obadiah sat at the head of the table.

“The absence of our chief executive today,” he began gravely, “underscores the very concerns this board must address.” And then the screens at the front of the room flickered to life, and Ifeoma appeared, live from her isolation ward — no wig, no scarf, her head bare, an IV in her arm, her face worn to the bone by the conditioning.