Jordan invited Nia to hear a new arrangement at a small venue. The band's program listed contributions carefully after an argument over a song's credit. One member thought the detail unnecessary. Another said it prevented resentment from becoming the group's unpaid manager. They reached an agreement and played. Nia watched the drummer remove the section Jordan once loved, then bring back a fragment in the ending. The music improved through shared work nobody needed to deny. Afterward, Jordan admitted they would probably argue again. "A system isn't a cure for personality," he said. Nia laughed. He was becoming irritatingly quotable. She asked permission before writing that sentence down.

The day before the launch, Lin visited the library room where Nia first learned Mandarin. The children asked why her hair was white and whether authors could draw dragons. She answered both questions seriously. Nia translated as needed, with another professional covering the scheduled public conversation. Lin told the students she rewrote most pages more than they would enjoy hearing. One child asked whether making mistakes meant a book was bad. Lin said pretending not to make them usually made a book worse. The teacher smiled. Nia thought of Aunt Wen, the window image, and a title page that changed. The answer was useful because Lin had earned it imperfectly, through work still being revised.

That night, Nia laid out clothes for the event. She chose a blue jacket she already owned rather than buying an outfit intended to announce transformation. Her mother offered earrings. Nia accepted them. Dani checked the microphone rules and reminded her to drink water. Jordan sent a message asking whether anyone planned to challenge her to play bass for another hundred thousand dollars. She replied that negotiations were closed. Then she opened the novel and read one page without checking the credit. It took effort at first. Eventually the family inside the story became more interesting than the people responsible for the edition. Nia kept reading until the kettle went cold.

Chapter 15

Before the First Question

The library auditorium smelled of paper, coats, and freshly cleaned carpet. Volunteers moved chairs to preserve wheelchair spaces and checked the hearing assistance equipment. Nia arrived early enough to watch the room become ready. Nobody asked her to carry trays. A staff member offered coffee and waited for her answer as though it mattered. The small reversal unsettled her. She had spent years moving through events with the knowledge that guests could request things she was expected to anticipate. Now she needed to remember that accepting care did not create an obligation to become easy, grateful, or endlessly available. She asked for water and thanked the person who brought it.

Backstage was a meeting room with a copier and a table of fruit. Lin sat beside Fang reading the event outline. Mara checked the pronunciation of every name, including the library technician introducing the evening. Clara arrived with corrected copies and the publisher's written statement. Oliver was handling the bookseller display, checking that the event signs used both translators' names accurately. Nia saw her own on a printed card and felt the familiar catch in her chest. Then she noticed a misspelling of Lin's hometown in the program. Fang supplied the correction. It was fixed before the doors opened. Accuracy could remain practical even when everyone was nervous.

Miles had requested a reserved seat through his office. The library supplied ordinary guest registration, without a speaking role. He declined to attend after learning the moderator would not introduce him as the patron who discovered Nia. His absence produced a flurry of speculation online. Nia instructed herself not to read it. His payment existed, his conduct existed, and the book existed. It was possible for a room to discuss the third without demanding that the first two provide its only dramatic structure. She hoped the audience would agree. Mara said some would and some would not, and that was why she had a microphone.

Patricia arrived with Jordan and Dani. They visited backstage briefly, then left to find seats. Her mother hugged Nia and adjusted a loose thread on the blue jacket. "Your father would have said to speak slowly," she said. Nia laughed because it was true. He had supplied that advice before school presentations, job interviews, and one especially heated complaint about a bus cancellation. Patricia did not say he was watching or that the evening repaired his absence. She simply named what he would have done, leaving grief room to be accurate. Nia thanked her. After they left, she stood alone for a minute and let herself miss him without turning the feeling into part of her planned remarks.