Vivian Harper walked to the witness stand the way she did most things — without hurry, without performance, with the complete attention of a woman who had decided exactly where she was going and was simply going there.She was fifty-three years old. She looked like someone who had survived something that had no category — not illness, not accident, not the visible kinds of loss that people know how to recognise. Twenty-three years of a different kind of disappearance, the kind you choose because the alternative is death, and all that time visible in the quality of her stillness rather than in any visible damage. She had come through something and she was here and she was entirely herself.She sat down. She looked at Foster.She did not look at Robert.Foster began with the year Vivian had started investigating Robert Sinclair.She answered him the way she answered everything — directly, with specificity, without ornamentation. She described discovering the first irregularities in Harp
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