Odd, I thought of Sara as I did it.
"I don't think this will make the paper," I warned them. "Children don't make good Sources. And your being her father weakens the Second. This herd, or whatever it was, could have been a dog or rat pack ... there still are some in Central Park. But the Greeley'll decide. Go on in."
As the glass door swung shut behind them, he held it and said, "They're early, you see." And I swear the little girl giggled.
I watched her reach up to the sensor plate with her ID.
They weren't in the Scoop cubicle long, for Ron Obrin, my relief, reached the top of the elevator just as the girl started to talk into the Scoop, and he was opening the vestibule door when the pair came out. Ron was, of course, on the dot of noon.
The father was talking to the girl as Ron checked in at the time clock. "There, Gini, I promised you, and we tried," I heard him say. She thanked me, still grave and almost smiling, and he thanked me, and they left. I was glad to see them go.