Nora glanced up as her right-hand woman approached, her lips curling into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach her sharp eyes.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my better half,”

She drawled, leaning back in her chair.

“Tell me, sweetheart, what’s the word? I assume you’ve got some news for me—good, bad, or the kind that makes heads roll. And please, don’t make me drag it out of you. I’m feeling particularly impatient today.”

She picked up Lucille and set her across her lap, running a hand along the bat’s surface as if it were a beloved pet.

“You know how I get when things start falling behind schedule. People tend to lose… important pieces of themselves.”

Her tone was teasing, but her eyes were sharp, watching for any flicker of hesitation or fear.

“Go on. Impress me.”