She just felt like she was going to be a burden to the woman.
Not just a woman.
Finola was McCrae’s mother.
“I know.”
Noelle bit into her bottom lip. Wondering what Finola meant.
The older woman turned around at the sink and flourished the spoon she was holding in her hand. “I’m going to make both sandwiches and we can go halfsies!”
“That sounds great.”
“See? I’m magical that way!”
Picking up her glass of iced tea, Noelle moved into the kitchen and set the glass and coaster down on the counter. “Really? There’s nothing I can do to help?”
Finola waved at her. “Why don’t you tell me how you met my son, Noelle?”
Strangely, it felt like a personal question, but it wasn’t.
Noelle knew it wasn’t.
Then why did she feel like she was under a spotlight.
Or a microscope.
“I… I’m here for work.”
“Work.” Finola nodded. “Sure.”
“No, really. It’s work. I’m… I’m somewhat of a reconstruction expert. With… with faces.”
She held her breath, waiting to see what Finola’s reaction was.
For a moment, her smile dimmed for a moment and she nodded. “I see.”
Noelle was struggling, trying to come up with something to say that would make her feel better.
“Do you think…”
Noelle watched the other woman carefully. Not the hands that were making the sandwiches on the counter, but her face.
She could tell that her normal bright smile lit up rooms.
Seeing her saddened hurt Noelle on an elemental level.
“Do you think that they suffered?”
Shifting at the counter, Noelle traced her finger around the edge of the coaster. “I’m not that kind of a specialist, Ma’am.”
“Ah-”
Finola turned to look at her. “Ma’am is so… elderly.”
“Sorry.” Noelle’s eyes widened at that. “Missus King?”
Finola shivered and laughed softly at that. “That’s my mother-in-law, God rest her soul.”
