Her last mission must’ve really roughed her up pretty badly.
Because Adalind Schade smiling beatifically like she’s just grown a halo on her head is just the kind of deceptive illusion—a mocking mirage—that one sees when she’s about to die.
And Theresa Rubel could never have felt closer to death than she does now.
“Trubel? Is everything okay?”
A look of open concern washes over the unnervingly harmless smile.
Trubel can sooner maul a deranged hundjager than try and wrap her head around the schematics of this moment, or why she keeps coming back to it.
it. “Never better.
” She lifts her coffee mug to her face and feigns a sip, then catches sight of Kelly giving her the infant version of a side eye and finds herself narrowing her eyes in retaliation.
Barely a year old and already so perceptive. He really
Nick Burkhardt’s son.
“You should come earlier tomorrow so you and Kelly can bond properly.” Adalind smiles again and Trubel almost chokes on the lump this brings to her throat.
Kelly responds by clamping one protective little hand on his mommy’s breast while suckling noisily on the one clamped between his lips.
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