The room forgot how to breathe.
For several long seconds, nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
The screen flickered softly against the darkened operations room, illuminating faces that had suddenly gone pale.
The woman stood beside Susanna Croft.
Alive.
Impossible.
Her dark hair fell over one shoulder in loose waves. She couldn't have been much older than forty-five, yet there was something ageless about her. Not because she looked young.
Because she looked like someone who had survived.
The kind of beauty forged through fire instead of comfort.
Sharp cheekbones.
Intelligent eyes.
The faint scar running from her left temple into her hairline.
A scar Roman knew better than his own reflection.
The woman smiled.
Not happily.
Not cruelly.
Sadly.
Like she was seeing ghosts too.
"Hello, Roman."
The sound of her voice seemed to physically hit him.
Allison watched her uncle go completely still.
Until now, Roman had felt indestructible.
A mountain disguised as a man.
