The Darlings by Cristina Alger

was just outside the school, still on the property. He got in a fight with Joseph Dunn. We’re going to need someone to come down here to pick him up right away.”
    â€œIs he hurt?”
    â€œPatrick’s fine. Just a few scrapes on his knee but the nurse put some antiseptic on it. Joseph has a black eye.”
    â€œIsn’t Joe in high school?” Yvonne said suspiciously. She put down the sandwich and buried her forehead in the palm of her hand.
    Though no one was within earshot, she spoke at a near whisper. Yvonne’s desk was open on three sides so anyone rounding the corner could hear what she was saying before she saw them. The hallways of Penzell & Rubicam were typically quiet. The lawyers kept mostly to themselves behind the doors of their private offices. Secretaries were trained to keep their voices low and their conversations short. For confidentiality reasons, there were no outside visitors on the floors where the lawyers had their offices. Penzell & Rubicam hired its own cleaning, security, and mailroom staff, which was more tightly vetted than those provided by the building. Clients went directly from the lobby to a conference room on one of the five “hospitality floors.” Attorneys reached the hospitality floors via keycard-protected internal stairwells, but the clients had to use a separate bank of elevators, a different one for each floor. So discreet was the firm that the elevators’ schedules were tightly controlled, so as to prevent even passing intraclient interaction.
    â€œJoe Dunn is still in eighth grade,” Teresa Frankel snapped. “The point is, your son hit him on school property. Frankly, Mrs. Reilly, from the sound of things, it wasn’t provoked. So you or your husband better get down here as soon as possible. I can’t release him without a parent present.”
    â€œWhere’s Chris?” Yvonne said. “My other son,” she added testily.
    â€œChristopher is waiting here in my office. He’s very upset. He keeps saying something about a dog.”
    â€œToby.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œNothing. The dog’s name is Toby. That’s the Dunns’ dog—Joe Dunn’s dog. They’re our neighbors. Never mind. I’m leaving work now.”
    â€œThe school closed twenty minutes ago, Mrs. Reilly,” Teresa said, crisp as paper off the printer. “If I were you, I’d get down here as soon as I could.”
    Yvonne was slipping on her jacket when the phone rang again. She froze, one sleeve hanging from her shoulder.
What now
, she thought, when she saw the number.
    â€œHi,” she said, as neutrally as possible.
    â€œI need you to get a pen immediately and write this down. Got a pen?”
    â€œI was on my way out. How important is this?”
    Sol paused, stunned into silence. Yvonne’s eyes instinctively blinked shut. She had rarely pushed back on him, never in an emergency, and so neither of them quite knew what to do now that she had.
    â€œWhat?” he said, stupidly.
    Yvonne weighed her options.
Better to stand her ground than back down and apologize
, she thought.
If I apologize, he’ll feel justified in being pissed off, and then he’ll be even more difficult than usual
.
    â€œYou said I could leave at noon,” she said. Her voice came out loud, a little too aggressive. “Everyone else left. I have some business at my kids’ school. So unless it’s really important, I can’t get to it right now.” She winced, immediately regretting the last sentence.
    â€œIt
is
really important,” Sol said, sounding vaguely triumphant. “It’s an emergency. Get a pen.”
    Damn it,
she thought.
Never argue with a lawyer.
    In the background, Yvonne could hear the distant ding of elevators opening and closing, and the murmur of voices around him, as though he was in a tank filled with water.
    He’s in a lobby somewhere.
He must be desperate
.
    Sol