The Truth Commission Read Online Free PDF

on her ex-client.
    Several major movie studios were interested in optioning the Diana Chronicles. For those who don’t know, an option gives a producer the right to turn a property 31 into a film or TV series. The studios wanted to turn the Chronicles into one of those “tent pole” movies that would support the whole studio for a season. The producers said they wanted to make at least three movies based on the books. 32 But my sister wouldn’t sell the rights. When Sylvia pushed, Keira fired her. That happened not long after Keira came home from college.
    When I walked into the house, my mother was in the kitchen making coffee. Coffee is about the last thing my mother, who has the most threadbare nerves of anyone not currently being experimented upon in a lab, should have.
    â€œHello, Normandy,” said Sylvia from the living room. She has black hair with red accents, and aggressive eyewear. She used to run the horror division of a publishing company before she started representing writers and artists.
    As always, I was happy to see her. She’s extremely un-suburban and charismatic and has this way of making you feel like you’re the only thing standing between her and death due to boredom.
    â€œHi, Sylvia.”
    â€œTalk to me, Normandy. Tell me what you’re reading. I need the freshness of your young mind to clear my own suffocating cynicism and despair.”
    Sylvia is in her forties. Now that I think about it, she’s probably about the same age as my parents. It’s odd. The difference between their forty and hers is the difference between a forty-year-old horse and a forty-year-old parrot. The horse is tottering around on its last legs, and the parrot looks the same as it ever did. My parents have this ground-down quality that is probably related to worrying about my sister. I also wonder if they’re exhausted by their never-ending wait for Keira to appreciate them or at least for their investment in her career to pay off, financially or otherwise. 33 Sylvia, on the other hand, looks like she eats stress as an
amuse-bouche
and turns problems into cocktails. Or something like that.
    The best thing about Sylvia is that she always asks my opinions about books and movies and music. I pretty much love her. She makes me wish I had an agent.
    I sighed, like I wasn’t interested in being listened to.
    â€œThere’s this book called
Auntie Mame
. I found it at McGrew’s Second Hand.”
    â€œOh, my God! To read
Auntie Mame
for the first time. You lucky, lucky thing.”
    I was disappointed she’d already read it, but trying to name a book Sylvia hadn’t already read was part of the fun. Lots of people
say
they read everything, but Sylvia really does.
    â€œHave you finished it?”
    â€œNo. Too busy in school right now.”
    â€œAh,” said Sylvia. “You call me when you’re done with
Mame
. We’ll talk about it. The author, Patrick Dennis, had an amazing life. After selling millions of books, he left the writing life and became a butler. His employers had no idea who he was. Apparently he loved buttling.”
    I made a mental note to look him up, and also to check whether buttling is a recognized verb. 34
    â€œWhat are you working on at the Art Farm?” she asked. The Art Farm is the name Keira gave to the G. P. Academy, with one part fondness to two parts disdain. I don’t think it ever occurred to my sister that some people need extra creative nurturing. She would have had mind-blowing artistic output no matter how she was raised.
    I debated whether to tell her. Sylvia, for all her coolness, was in our house because of Keira. She was only there to see if Keira had snapped out of whatever state of suspended animation she’d fallen into.
    I considered telling Sylvia about the Truth Commission. That was something that might catch her attention. It was just strange enough.
    No, and no.
    â€œOh, you know. We’re