Lyle frowned and looked at Lilly again, wondering what he’d missed. She pulled on a coil of her hair. “I wore it straight back then.”
“Natural Blue Black,” said Lyle, snapping his fingers and almost dropping his box. “Number 328B.”
“I’m impressed,” said Lilly. “I don’t even remember the color, let alone the part number.”
“Lyle’s full of stupid little facts like that,” said Cynthia, brushing past her to the larger office beyond. “Did you send my message to Ambassador Larracilla?”
“You already asked me that,” said Lilly, glancing at Lyle with a smirk, “and I already told you that I did. He hasn’t sent a response.” Lyle was shocked at her combative attitude—Cynthia wasn’t the kind of person you got snarky with.
“Counting just now I’ve asked you three times,” Cynthia called out from the other room, and her voice held exactly the level of distaste Lyle expected. “I’m trying to stress to you that this message is important.”
“And counting just now I’ve answered you four times,” said Lilly, “so maybe I’m taking this more seriously than you are.”
Lyle’s jaw nearly dropped.
Cynthia stepped back into the room, her expression icy. “Are you saying I should have woken you up in the middle of the night to remind you?”
“You did wake me up in the middle of the night to remind me.”
Cynthia glared a moment longer, then walked back into her office. “Since you obviously have so much time on your hands, take the same message to Ambassador Hitudeki—and make sure you change all the country references. I don’t think Japan will be persuaded by our offers to Mexico.” Cynthia closed the door, and Lilly sat back down at her desk with a laugh.
“I can’t believe you said that,” said Lyle.
“Which part?”
“Any part.” He set his box of papers in one of the chairs by the wall, and sat down in the chair next to it, just across from Lilly. “Nobody talks like that to Cynthia—it’s like walking into a buzz saw.”
“She’s all bark,” said Lilly, tapping away on her keyboard. “Maybe before, but in here I’m one of the only allies she has. If you’ve ever thought of the United Nations as some kind of paragon of peace and cooperation, you are in for a big surprise. It’s like Carrie White’s locker room in here. And the worse it gets outside, and the closer they come together inside, they still exclude her because it’s a big stupid boys’ club. I’m practically her only friend.”
Lyle raised his eyebrow. “That’s how you treat your friends?”
Lilly smirked. “‘Friend’ was a strong word. She’s still a gorgon, she’s just … a gorgon who’s not allowed to eat me.”
“Gorgons don’t eat people,” said Lyle. “But don’t worry, I see your point.” He looked at his box of papers with a sad, internal sigh, then dropped it unceremoniously on the floor. “Screw it,” he said. “I could read a thousand news reports and still not know how to change anything.” He looked at Lilly. “Cynthia’s position here is much more interesting. Were you here when they brought her in?”
“Actually she’s the one who brought me in,” said Lilly.
Lyle leaned forward. “You, specifically?”
“I don’t know why.” Lilly looked up at him, her face clear and guileless. “Most of the nonmodel, nonwaitress credits on my résumé are office assistant kind of stuff, receptionist and that kind of thing. Maybe she just … had an old file and looked through it for candidates? I don’t know.”
Lyle shook his head. “Every file NewYew had was entered into state’s evidence when the company dissolved, so there’s no way Cynthia could just accidentally have one. Even if she’d stored encrypted copies online somewhere, why go to all the trouble of accessing them just to hire a secretary? No offense.”
“Why would that offend me?”
“I don’t know,” said Lyle. “Just being polite.” He steepled his fingers, trying to think. “If she accessed the NewYew files it must have been for something more, something to do with ReBirth, but what would she be doing in the part of the files that had old models’ names in it? There’s nothing important in there. Again, no offense.”
“Who do you normally talk to, that you have to say ‘no offense’ after every sentence?”
“Cynthia.”
Lilly laughed. “That explains it. That one was slightly offensive, though, even though I know what you’re saying.”
Lyle stared at her, wondering if he’d seen her somewhere else than on the box photo. “What’s your last name?”
“Washington,” she said. “Why?”
“Lilly Washington,” said Lyle, staring blankly as he listened to the name. He’d heard it somewhere, or seen it. “How many times have you left this building since you were hired?”
“Why does any of this matter?”
“Because I think I saw you in our list of prospective ReBirth models,” said Lyle. “And I think you were rejected. Have they let you leave?”
“Well, I’m not a prisoner here—”
“Have you ever left?”
Lilly paused, then shook her head. “Not since the day after I was hired. Most of the ambassadors are living here these days, and their staffs.”
“Have you tried to leave?”
Lilly paused again, and her face fell. “No. They bring in everything we need, though, and it’s dangerous out there. It almost doesn’t matter what this job pays, this building has running hot water. Sometimes they forget to bring the right food—”
“Lillian Washington,” said Lyle, snapping his fingers. “Grandmother with breast cancer, tonsils removed in the fifth grade, and still signed up on your parents’ insurance. You have celiac sprue.”
Lilly’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you stalking me?”
Lyle laughed nervously. “I get that a lot, actually. But no, no stalking, I just have a very good memory. Just now you said that sometimes they forget to bring in the right food, and by that you mean gluten-free. You were rejected from the ReBirth program because you have a genetic disorder called celiac disease: you can’t digest wheat gluten properly.”
