Karl faced Vanda in the foyer of the Borges House. The warm familiarity they once shared was gone. No longer disguised as “Lawrence Vieira,” Karl no longer received the open smiles and trust he once did. Instead, there was caution — and a touch of coldness.“Hello, Mr. Sterling,” Vanda greeted him, formally.“Oh, come on, Vanda,” Karl replied, gesturing casually. “Keep calling me your literary agent and friend.”“You’re not going to be my literary agent anymore, from what I understand.”“That’s true,” Karl acknowledged. “But I’ll still be your friend. Yours and Hélio’s.”From the dining room, Hélio appeared, dabbing his lips with a cloth napkin. His expression was unreadable.“Well, Karl,” he said icily, “we need to clear some things up if we’re going to preserve that friendship.”Karl stiffened slightly at the chilly tone, surprised by how quickly these friends had become strangers.“Sheila came here yesterday,” Vanda said. “She told us you’re trying to orchestrate a reunion between