Page 192 of Black Reign

Even the little signal relay I was particularly proud of.

The older man follows my gaze.

“You carry many toys.”

His English is excellent.

“Occupational hazard.”

My voice sounds rough.

He smiles.

“Sabine Beaumont.”

Everything inside me freezes.

I don't let my face show it.

“Wrong girl.”

“Cornflower eyes.”

He gestures toward the table.

My contacts lie beside the wig.

They removed them.

My real hair hangs around my shoulders, tangled from whatever they did getting me here.

Caramel.

Exposed.

Me.

No Jenny.

No blonde wedding guest.

No Vesper.

Sabine.

The man leans forward.

“Your father would be disappointed.”

That gets through.

A tiny movement.

Enough.

He sees it.

I hate him for that.