"What did you just say?" Elara's voice was barely audible over the hum of the car engine. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the edge of her seat.
Julian glanced at her, his brow furrowed with concern. "Vivienne Dubois. She interviewed last week while you were handling that situation with Cora. I thought you'd be pleased—she's highly regarded in the field."
The inside of the car suddenly felt airless. Elara struggled to maintain her composure, memories crashing over her like waves: Damien's hand resting possessively on Vivienne's waist at company functions; Cora's excited chatter about "Aunt Vivie" bringing her presents; the countless nights she'd spent alone while her husband was "working late" with her half-sister.
"Julian," she said finally, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her, "Vivienne Dubois is my half-sister."
His expression shifted from confusion to dawning realization. "Your half-sister? But you've never mentioned—"