“We cannot just turn it on,” I said.

“Sarah, don’t be difficult,” she said. “This article will be in the Sunday business section. Think of the prestige.”

“We don’t need prestige, Mom,” Derek said. “We need capital.”

“This is how you get capital,” she said. “People buy the story before they buy the product.”

She paused, and I could hear her taking a slow, controlled breath.

“I will be there at ten o’clock tomorrow with Carol,” she said. “Make sure the place is clean.”

The line clicked and went silent.

Derek stared at his phone, his jaw set tight.

“She is going to bring a reporter to a building with no power and a foreclosure notice on the door,” he said.

“She doesn’t care about the foreclosure,” I said. “She cares about the photograph in the Sunday paper.”

I leaned back in my chair, looking at the dark corners of the room.

The green light on the server rack suddenly flickered and turned red.

A low, warning beep began to sound from the backup power supply.

“The backup is dying,” Derek said.