His shoulders lowered.
“You can leave at any second,” I said.
“I know.”
“I will tell her to go.”
“I know.”
“You do not have to protect her feelings.”
His eye shone.
“I know.”
We walked to the break room.
A woman sat at the table beneath the harsh fluorescent light.
She had aged since I last saw her.
Her hair, once dark like Noah’s, had gone almost entirely silver. She wore a beige coat buttoned to the throat and held a leather handbag with both hands. Her posture remained rigid, as though any softness might expose a weakness.
She looked first at me.
Disapproval settled over her features as naturally as breath.
Then she saw Noah.
Her face changed.
Not enough.
She did not stand.
“Noah.”
He froze beside me.
The walking pole struck the floor once.
His mouth opened.
For several seconds, no word came.
Then, very quietly, he said, “Mom?”
Chapter 33
REID
“Mom?”
The word barely reached the far side of the break room.
Noah stood beside me with the walking pole angled against the floor. His fingers had tightened around its cork handle until the knuckles blanched. For several seconds, he seemed to forget the room contained chairs.
Diane Bennett looked at him without rising.
