I practiced normally all afternoon.
There was an art to it, the casual laugh, the small tilt of the head, the way you let your fingers brush the stem of a wine glass without looking desperate for balance. I told myself I could play the part well enough. After all, I had been pretending for weeks that I hadn’t seen the photograph, that I hadn’t watched the footage, that I didn’t know his name was bound up with blood and bargains. Tonight the pretense was simpler. Smile,Eat,Let the room believe there was nothing to hide.
Valen arrived like a storm that knew precisely how to dress itself for dinner. He walked in with his coat slung over one arm, hair still damp from the rain, eyes darker than the room. He closed the door behind him and carried the sound of the night with him, a hush that de
