CASSIAN
Charles Wolfe entered the room like he was stepping onto a stage he had built with his own hands.
Preston was on his left, Seraphina on his right, and the Governor was tucked into the center of the formation like a protected asset.
My father moved through the lobby, his voice carrying easily, warm and projected for the back row. He was the picture of benevolent authority.
"Gentlemen," Charles announced, his eyes sweeping the room. "What a fine evening. A gathering of minds for all the right reasons."
He walked straight toward us. He didn't look at the security guards fleeing the scene. He didn't look at the tension vibrating in the air. He looked at Nick Bennett and smiled, a look that was a perfect replica of genuine admiration.
"Dr. Bennett," Charles said, extending a hand. "The national hero himself. A pleasure."
Then, his eyes slid to Noah. He didn't skip a beat.
