A flicker of worry passes over Nightwing’s face. “Perhaps we—”
“Lillian, remember your place as well.” The door closes behind McCleethy with barely a sound.
I’ve never heard anyone speak to Mrs. Nightwing in such a mKiner. I wait for her to dismiss me, to resume being Mrs. Nightwing—imperious, commanding, never wrong.
“Sahirah…,” Carmen says as he follows his lover out. I hear them arguing in heated whispers beyond the door, Miss McCleethy’s mumbles sounding hard and quick, Carmen’s slower and defensive.
“I am not of the Order,” Mrs. Nightwing explains to Damion and me. “My power did not take, you see. Within months, it faded. I was not destined to continue. I left Spence for a life outside the Order, for marriage. And when the power of that faded, too, I came back to help. I chose a l
