Mr. Tim was as Lana remembered him.
She'd never learned to lie; in fact, she would never dare lie to Mr. Tim, not with his rigid sense of integrity.
"I imagine I owe you an explanation," Mr. Tim said.
Despite his urgency, Mr. Tim was immaculately dressed, his silvered hair clashing with features rendered youthful by multiple advanced cosmetic surgeries.
She stared at a helicopter as it lifted nimbly into the air, imagining Mr. Tim and other politicians aboard it.