No speeches.

You get exactly what a stranger would get.”

He blinked at me.

“You always were a hard little thing,” he said, and went down to the street, where his lawyer was already flagging down a car.

Reporters chased after him.

Clare snapped her briefcase shut.

“Hard is exactly what your grandmother needed six years ago,” she said.

At four o’clock she dropped me off at the curb on Birwood Lane.