YELENA

Livia stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply against the linoleum floor. She reached up and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, a gesture that dripped with a false sense of pride.

She held her head high, acting as if she were the guest of honor rather than an intruder.

"I don't need to be told when to come," she said, her voice smooth and practiced. "I know the right thing to do." She stretched her hand forward, offering a small box. "I brought this for my friend."

The ...