Her silhouette filled the doorway, framed by the swinging lightbulb above. Vivienne Bennett stepped forward slowly, her heels clicking against the concrete as if she had all the time in the world.
I’d seen her face in old portraits, in the foundation’s glossy newsletters with her frozen smiles, soft curls, a mother immortalized in charity pamphlets but seeing her in the flesh was different and sharper. She looks more dangerous and her beauty hadn’t faded, it had hardened, sharpened into something cold and precise.
Noah’s knuckles whitened on the gun. “Mother.”
The word sounded foreign on his lips.
Vivienne’s smile curved, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “So you do still recognize me. For a while, I wondered if Desmond had scrubbed me from your memory entirely.”
Noah’s chest rose and fel
