Victoria Hale arrives twelve minutes early.
I know because Damien texts me from the lobby of the hotel conference room we've borrowed — She's here. Early. Interesting — and I'm upstairs with Hope and Maya, watching a grainy feed from the small camera Chen's team wired into the smoke detector above the conference table.
Maya's eating actual popcorn. She found a microwave bag in the vending machine hallway and I didn't have the heart to tell her this isn't that kind of occasion.
"She's wearing Chanel," Maya says, squinting at the screen. "The gray suit. That's her armor. She only wears that one when she's scared."
"How do you know which suit is her armor?"
"Because I've spent three years studying everyone who wanted to hurt you." Maya shrugs. "That's what best friends are for."
