Chapter 5 · Chapter 5

The shamal spent itself before dawn and left the courtyard under a film of dust so fine the attendant swept the steps three times and lost them twice. I went to KAFD at eight. The Land Cruiser took the last of the grit along the ring road, the towers standing grey as old paper behind it, and my driver opened my door and did not look at me, which was the courtesy I wanted that morning.

The audit partner was waiting on the thirty-first floor with the ledger, the register, and eleven years of my signature in the same place on the same clause. She had the certified extract sealed that morning, the raised stamp still soft enough to smudge under a thumb.

"You understand what this costs the firm," she said.

"I understand what it costs me," I said. "You are not on the ballot."

She put the seal away and did not argue, which is why I had kept her firm for eleven years.

By four the notary had come, and the hall had filled.