(Naomi POV)
“You’re not wearing that.”
Priya stood in the doorway of the guest room, arms crossed, eyeing the black dress laid out on the bed like it had personally offended her.
“It’s appropriate,” Naomi said.
“It’s armor. I know the difference.” Priya crossed to the closet and pulled out something else entirely, deep green, the kind of dress that didn’t apologize for being seen. “Wear this instead. If you’re walking into that woman’s house tonight, you walk in looking like you’ve already won.”
Naomi almost laughed. Almost. “I haven’t won anything yet.”
“You will.” Priya set the dress down beside her. “You’re going into Vivian Calloway’s house to find out what she’s spent eleven years hiding. Dress like it.”
Naomi changed. When she looked in the mirror, she barely recognized the wo
