Page 113

Fuck.

“No.”

The door opens.

Serena walks in with her laptop tucked beneath one arm and a manila folder in the other, already talking. “I think Tamsin found something in the—” She stops.

Faun, meanwhile, loses his fucking mind.

He launches himself off the bed and races toward her, tail whipping hard enough to throw his entire back end sideways.

My mother's gaze moves over Serena from head to toe. Not rudely, of course. Enamored. “Oh,” she says.

“No.” The word tumbles out again.

Serena looks at me. “No what?”

“Nothing.” I can feel the vein in my temple pulsating.

Faun paws impatiently at Serena’s shin, finally dragging her attention downward.

Her entire expression changes. “Oh. Are you Faun? What are you doing here?”

She is significantly less surprised by his presence than I expected her to be.

He immediately rolls onto his back.

“Of course you are.” She crouches long enough to rub his stomach before looking up at me. “You failed to mention he’s approximately ninety percent ears.”

My mother turns her attention to Serena again. “Who are you?”

“Serena Harper. Who are you?”

“Nora Mayfair.” She crosses the room and takes Serena's free hand in both of hers. Serena rises with Faun tucked against her chest. I would not mind trading places with him. “Are you Bear’s attorney?”

Serena glances at me. “No.”

“Doctor?”

Why the fuck would she ask that?

“Not medically.”

My mother lights up. “Academic.”

“Forensic anthropologist.”

She gasps, her hand flying to her chest. “You work with the dead.”

Serena considers this. “Primarily their bones.”

My mother's attention snaps to me, and her entire face changes.

Of course. Of fucking course. I am interested in exactly one woman in three years and she's a forensic anthropologist who spends her days communing with the dead. As far as Nora Mayfair is concerned, this is divine intervention.

Serena's eyes dart between us. “What is happening?”

“This is my mother,” I tell her, which does not answer her question but is the closest thing I have.