Mignon's POV
The silence in the restaurant made the cramping in my stomach worse.
Vivi, finding every eye in the room on her, didn't flinch. She lifted her chin slightly, and then, with the precision of someone who knew exactly where to press, she began to mimic me. My cadence, my gestures, the particular tilt of my head when I spoke to someone I was close to. She aimed all of it at Max. "Why aren't you saying anything? You're always so sweet to me. Are you really going to pretend you don't know me in front of your colleagues?"
The inflection, the expression, the angle of her face: it was an imitation of me in love, and it was accurate enough to be nauseating.
Watching her perform it on that surgically constructed face, in front of everyone at this table, I felt my chest heave and my n
