“What’s the matter, Natasha?” Haven smirked, swirling the little bottle between her fingers. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”“H-How?” Natasha stuttered and swallowed hard, “Where did you….”

“Cat caught your tongue, Natasha?” Haven taunted, tilting the bottle slightly as the poison glistened in the light. “I thought you would be happy to see your handwork once more. Don't you recognize it? It's the same one used to kill Kyle. The same one you planted to frame ...