“I know you are keeping something from me, Miss Noa.”
Noa’s gray-blue eyes lit up with mischief, her face morphing from its usual lethargic visage to a hardened expression rather similar to the one Eleanora Aiselle had been known to wear.
“So?” the woman questioned, propping herself up into a sitting position with her arms on the back of the couch. For a moment, Kyle struggled to see Noa in the face before him, briefly taken aback as he swore the eyes of Eleanora captured him once more. The easiest way to distinguish between the two, the detective had found, was by looking her directly in the eyes. While Eleanora was known for her sharp gaze, Noa tended more towards a lazy stare that hinted at mischievous curiosity when confronted with subjects that she was interested in.
Sighing, Kyle said, “So, you can consider me not questioning this matter as the deepest apology that I can express for all of the discourtesy that you have experienced so far.”
