Page 117 of The Paris Rental

With one last grin, Noah waves and wishes me good luck again.

Once the call ends, I stand, smooth down my hair, and walk to the woman. I rub my hands on my thighs.This is it.

“Ms. Summers?” she clarifies.

At my nod, she directs me to the lone chair on one side of a conference table.

Several other people sit in the room, all of them on the other side of the table or seated along the wall. I spare a brief glance for two people in the corner.

I don’t need to look long.

I know who’s there.

Still moving at an efficient pace, the woman in the pencil skirt sets a glass of water in front of me.

At one end of the table, a man sits with a laptop in front of him and headphones covering his ears. Files and notepads cover the glossy wood along with what I presume is some sort of recording equipment.

Taking off the headphones, the man stands and speaks to the others at the table. “All set.” Then to me. “Ms. Summers, let’s begin. Please, raise your right hand.”

I do as instructed.

“Do you affirm that the evidence you shall give to the court in this matter shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and that this is your solemn affirmation?”

Now I do look at the corner. I take a deep breath, sit up taller, and meet Mackenzie’s eyes.

I answer her grateful smile with one of my own and say, “I do.”