Very good,” she lied. Zoe had learned not to burden loved ones with God’s unwanted children. She had come to America with her gigantic hopes, intending to save money and rescue the sisters who had once rescued her. She wasn’t trying to save the world--just them.

Zoe leaned closer to Ruth, nearly nose to nose. “If they were made from better stuff, they would have pretended the fault was theirs. They would have made a moment of it--a pretty moment.

Mario’s high spirits soon took a somber turn. He rolled himself closer to Frank. “I need this job, but you were right. More than a job, I need a way out.”
Frank had him. He was about to detour the rest of Mario’s life. Build a team, deploy them, scoop up the data, get the hell out of town. Frank had left an unhappy trail of ruined technicians. Spies do that kind of shit, were his usual parting words.

Pleading for forgiveness was always on the tip of her tongue. She had tried doing a good thing, but because of one thoughtless act, his two beautiful daughters were brutally raped, and running to the other side of the world hadn’t helped. Because of her, two innocent ADP employees were dead. She was older but not a shekel wiser, still opening the wrong doors.

A stained and wrinkled lab coat, no doubt, hid an even worse choice of clothing. Rolled-up sleeves displayed beefy forearms covered in tattoos. Frank grimaced at Mario’s shameless immaturity. Cartoon tats?

The dean put a finger to his chin as he studied this great and troubling mystery. The applicant’s response reeked of insincerity, like, “Have a nice day!” with all the friendly burned off. “Okay, Mr. Darlington. I’ll just be a minute.