Angela snapped her head towards Gael upon hearing the words. Did he just call her mother Mrs. Volkov?
Wait… Volkov…
The gears in her head began turning at a faster pace as if the name was the oil that made every spin smoother. Her eyes widened, suddenly remembering the man kissing her mother in the library. A few memories splattered in her head like paint flickered onto a canvas—blotchy, inconsistent. But slowly, the whole picture began to clear up.
Before the library incident, she was with her mother in a cafe where she first saw Mr. IV. Her mother's eyes bugged out in complete surprise when the man came to their table and sat with them. He was her mother's…special friend, he said so himself, at the same time that her mother blurted that he was her editor. She believed her mother, of course.
