Greg heard the door slam shut.
He finally turned to where Mycroft was standing in the doorway. The man’s face was a blank mask, his posture ramrod straight. He looked as if he was made of ice, just like everyone had said. Maybe Greg had been wrong about it all. Maybe everything had been an act, including the relationship Greg thought they had.
The Duplicity in the Meanings of Flowers – Chapter 2 – by anglofile (x)