Lora sat at the edge of the bed and turned the information over in her mind, William had sent men to kill her mother. That was the shape of it now. Michael had said it without knowing what he was handing her, which made it more reliable than anything she could have extracted deliberately. A lover in the Silver District who turned out to be a mole. Men sent to deal with it. Her mother had been twenty-three years old and had a four year old daughter and William Varkis had decided she was a liability.
Lora's hands were flat on her knees. She was aware of a heat in her chest that wanted to move, go somewhere and do something immediate and irreversible, and she let herself feel it for a moment before she put it aside.
