Charlie and Beckett swing their heads in unison to me. It’s one of the few twin-like mannerisms I’ve caught them doing tonight. “Where’d you hear that?” Beckett wonders. “Backstage at the ballet tonight. I overheard the staff, I think. They looked like instructors or directors of the company. They kept referencing a Bad Anne. Like a bad apple?” Beckett winces like that’s not quite right. Charlie is glaring. “You all call her Bad Anne?”
