Her expression shifted.

Not exactly guilt, but a controlled, guarded stillness.

She glanced at Leo before looking back at me.

“My name is Nora,” she said quietly. “I’ve been doing some work for Mark. It’s private, and he asked me not to say anything. I gave him my word.”

Private.

The word slipped beneath my ribs like a blad:e.

Leo had become very still in the cart, watching me with the wide-eyed fear he always showed when adults used the wrong tone.

“Mommy?”

“It’s okay, baby.”

It was not okay.

I stared at Nora, memorizing her face, the paint beneath her thumbnail, and the loose braid resting over her shoulder.

Then I spun the cart around and hurried out of the store.

“Mommy?” Leo called.

I did not answer.

I kept pushing until we reached the parking lot.

My fingers shook uncontrollably as I strapped him into his car seat.