“We’re just here to talk to him. I promise you, he’s not in any trouble. I’m dreadfully sorry, what’s your name?”
“My name?”
“Your name. Your first name. What is it, please?”
“Rose.”
Valkyrie kept shaking her hand, kept eye contact. “Rose Matthews, so good to meet you. Rose Matthews, this is not a big deal. When you think about this later, you’re going to skip over it. You’re not going to dwell on it, are you, Rose Matthews?”
“I’m not going to dwell on it,” Mrs Matthews responded.
“Of course you’re not. There’s no reason to. What were you doing before this?”
“Painting,” Mrs Matthews said.
“A portrait? A wall?”
“The Enterprise.”
“A Star Trek fan,” Valkyrie said. “Well, you can go back to painting the Enterprise, Rose Matthews, and you don’t have to give our conversation another thought. You can ignore us completely, in fact. You have a good day now.”
“Have a good day,” Mrs Matthews mumbled, and walked back into the house.
Omen glanced at Valkyrie. “I wish I could do that. They don’t teach it in school.”
“With good reason,” Valkyrie said, stepping back as Byron Grace came down the stairs.