By the time they left Marcus Ryane's studio, Dayo already knew the interview had done its job.
He did not need to check his phone to know. Sharon's face was enough.
She sat in the front passenger seat on the way back, tablet on her lap, one earbud in, one hand moving between messages, clipped videos, schedule updates, and whatever fresh madness the internet had decided to create from his answers. Every few minutes her shoulders tightened, then relaxed, then tightened again.
That was usually a bad sign.
Amanda sat beside Luna in the back, her phone face down on her thigh like she had placed a misbehaving animal there and was daring it to move. It vibrated anyway. Again and again. After the fifth buzz, Amanda picked it up, looked at the screen, and turned it face down harder.
Dayo noticed.
"Important?"
