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A smile trembled at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Gerald’s ridiculous upbraiding of his own reflection in the mirror. Brendon. “I do,” he answered. . He never appears to so little advantage as when speaking of him. “Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react. ‘Is there a resemblance?’ ‘This is Mary Remenham?’ ‘That is my late niece, yes. But a far greater affliction was in store for her. No one ate with as much passionate gusto as a teenager could.
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