The question sliced the air clean in two. Norah’s breath stalled.
Hale hesitated.
It couldn’t have been more than a fraction of a second. A blinking pause. But in that heartbeat, Norah watched a decade of mentorship go on the scales. Weighed and measured.
“Yes,” Hale said at last. “She can still be valuable. She simply needs time to adjust.”
Sidarov’s eyes never left his face. “You’re certain?”
“She’s loyal,” he said. “And she understands the stakes.”
He didn’t look at Norah when he said it. That hurt more than if he’d denied her outright.
Sidarov considered this, then turned her gaze back to Norah. Whatever warmth had been in her smile earlier cooled to something appraising, almost bored.
“Loyalty is a fragile thing,” she said softly. “Especially in people who think they are...ethical.”
Norah swallowed. “I won’t be a problem.”
“Everyone is a problem eventually,” Sidarov replied. “The question is whether they are useful before or after they become one.”
Morris shifted, just enough to signal impatience. “We should get back,” she said. “They’re expecting me for the press photo.”
“In a moment.” Sidarov’s attention sharpened. “For tonight, Richard, I will take your word. But if Ms. Winslow decides she does not wish to be part of this”—her gaze flicked down and back up, seeing far too much—“then she is already halfway to becoming a liability.”
Norah’s fingers trembled around her clutch. “I told Mr. Hale I want no part in anything...like what happened with Harrington. I don’t want to be in those rooms.”
Sidarov’s smile returned, slow and amused. “Oh, my dear. That is not how this works. You are either in the house or you are under it.”
Hale inclined his head. “I understand.”
He didn’t argue. He didn’t hedge. He didn’t say her name.
Cold seeped into Norah’s bones.
Morris’s smile never faltered. “Have a lovely rest of the evening,” she said lightly.
The two women moved away, absorbed once more into the swirl of power and money. For a moment, Hale and Norah were left in the echo of their wake.
Norah forced herself to breathe.
“So that’s it?” she asked quietly. “I’m loyal if I help. Disposable if I don’t.”
Hale’s expression was unreadable. “You always had a talent for cutting to the heart of things.”
Two men appeared at the edge of her vision, as if summoned by the words. Security, in tuxedos, faces blandly pleasant.
“Ms. Winslow?” one said, smiling. “Ms. Sidarov asked us to make sure you get some air. Big nights can be overwhelming.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
“I’d like to stay,” she said, voice tight. “I’m fine.”
“Just a quick step outside,” the other man said pleasantly, hand light at her elbow. “We’ll bring you right back.”
Liar.
Her gaze snapped to Hale. “Tell them to stop.”
