Val had set the table herself in the private dining room.
Raven could tell the second she stepped through the wide double doors. The long mahogany table glowed under low candlelight, good china laid out in perfect rows, candles burning at exactly the right height so the flames didn't flicker in anyone's eyes. Fresh white flowers sat in a low crystal vase right in the center—roses and lilies that definitely hadn't been there yesterday. Val had decided this was an occasion and built the whole damn thing around it.
Raven slid into the chair directly across from Vincent. The polished wood felt cool under her forearms. She stared at the flowers and her chest squeezed tight. She did this for us.
The thought landed soft. No armor. She let it stay.
