The Anatomy of Power
By daybreak, the city was awake, moving under a gray, overcast sky that threatened more rain. Helena had changed into clean clothes, her bruised shoulder bound tightly beneath a simple charcoal blazer.
Sarah had spent the night compiling the data into a clear, visual presentation that even a non-technical council member could understand within thirty seconds: color-coded maps showing the structural collapse trajectory.
Before they left the workshop, Helena called her sister.
"How is Lily?" Helena asked, her voice cracking with fatigue.
"She’s fine, Helena," her sister replied softly. "She woke up asking for you, but the doctor looked at the scratch again. It won't leave a scar. But there were two men in dark suits sitting in an unmarked car across the street from your brownstone this morning."
"Keep the doors locked," Helena commanded. "Take her to the community library downtown—the one with the public security desk. Stay in the main reading room until I call you."
"Helena... what have you gotten into?"
"I’m finishing what should have been done ten years ago," Helena said. "I love you. Tell Lily I’ll be there for dinner."
She hung up, took a deep breath, and turned to Sarah. "Let's go."
May you like
They drove to City Hall in Sarah's battered delivery van. The grand neoclassical building stood at the center of the municipal district, its wide stone steps flanked by marble columns representing justice and civic duty. But as Helena walked toward the entrance, she saw the black Vance town cars lined up along the private curb.
Richard Vance was already inside.
