He had never been able to prove enough.
Until Adrian.
A retired Mercer security director met us there before dawn.
She brought clothes.
A doctor came through a rear entrance and took blood samples from me.
That confused me.
“Why blood?”
Noah looked uncomfortable.
“You’ve been sick.”
“I’ve been stressed.”
“Heart palpitations.”
“Dizziness.”
“Headaches.”
“Exhaustion.”
I stared.
“How do you know all that?”
“You complain to me constantly.”
Fair.
Then Noah handed the doctor a small cosmetic bottle.
My night serum.
Adrian had given it to me for our anniversary.
Imported.
Ridiculously expensive.
I looked from the bottle to Noah.
“You tested this?”
“A preliminary sample.”
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