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My phone is on the arm of the sofa. I leave it there.

Tova takes hers to bed. I let her.

Maren presses the elevator button and looks at me before she looks at the folder.

“You tabbed it.”

“There are five tabs.”

“That’s what I said.”

I look down at them. Intake. Pilot. Referral. Reporting. Scope.

“They are useful.”

“I’m sure Silas will appreciate being attacked alphabetically.”

I almost smile.

The elevator opens on the executive floor.

Three weeks ago, the first version of this was three pages on Gabi’s table with a question written across the top of the third page.

What would I build if the choice were mine?

I did not have an answer then.

Maren stops outside Silas’s office.

“You want me to lead?”

“No.”

“Good.”

I look at her.

“You could have pretended to consider it.”

“I did. Very quickly.”

She opens the door.

Silas is behind his desk. He looks from Maren to me, then to the folder.

“Nilsson.”

“Mr. Vane.”

“You heard.”

“Yes.”

“Maren says you have a proposal.”

“I do.”

“Not a job application.”