"Yes," Mara heard herself say in resignation, the word tasting like ash in her mouth. "I was confused."
The older officer's shoulders relaxed visibly.
"Understandable," Nico said smoothly, his voice carrying just the right note of concern. "She's still recovering from the shock of her husband's death. Grief does strange things to the mind."
Both officers nodded sympathetically, like they'd seen this kind of thing before.
"Of course, Don Ferrante," the older one said. "Our condolences again for your loss."
Nico's hand settled on Mara's arm, gentle at first glance, but his grip was actually firm underneath.
"Let's get you home," he said, guiding her back across the street.
His hand never left her arm as they walked to the car. To anyone watching, it probably looked protective, even tender.
But Mara could feel the warning in every finger.
The car ride started in complete silence.
