The moment they rounded the corner his face hardened.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed.
“Providing accurate translation.”
“You interfered in a private negotiation.”
“I corrected a dishonest one.”
His nostrils flared. The civility stripped away from him faster in private than she would have believed possible. “Do you know who I am? One phone call and Peterson fires you before your next shift. Two calls and you won’t work in a serious restaurant in this city again. People like you think one smart move makes you untouchable. It doesn’t.”
People like you.
Elena felt fear, real and immediate, sweep through her in one clean cold rush. Rent. Insurance. Ruth’s therapy copays. Safety had a mathematics to it, and men like Wittmann knew how to weaponize numbers.
Before she could answer, another voice entered the hallway.
“Is there a problem?”
Mr. Han stood a few paces behind them, his expression composed, his translator and one of his advisors beside him. Wittmann stepped back at once, his features rearranging themselves into civility so fast it was almost grotesque.
“Not at all,” he said. “Just clarifying next steps.”
Han looked at Elena, not at Wittmann. “I would like Ms. Wilson to join tomorrow’s review meeting. Her presence will ensure that nothing gets lost in translation.”
Wittmann understood the message. Elena did too. Protection had just been extended in the form of usefulness, and in the world both men inhabited, usefulness was sometimes safer than sympathy.
By the time Elena got home after midnight, Atlanta’s streets were mostly empty except for delivery trucks and the drifting red eyes of traffic lights. Ruth was awake in the living room under a blanket, pretending she had not waited up.
“You’re late,” Ruth said.
“You’re spying,” Elena replied, setting her keys down.
Ruth’s eyes narrowed, reading the exhaustion and adrenaline on her face. “Something happened.”
Elena sat on the floor beside the wheelchair, leaned her head briefly against Ruth’s knee, and told her everything. The mockery. The Mandarin. The contract. The chair at the table. The hallway threat. Han’s invitation for the next day.
