He crossed the room in a few strides, seizing the tie in her hands, his own trembling.
Only one person he knew tied bows that way—me.
Back in that shabby rented apartment, I used to do it just to make him laugh.
Even the strings around a cake box, I’d tie into this same bow.
Fletcher’s eyes turned red as he gripped Zoey’s shoulders.
“Tell me! What’s your connection to Ashley? Where is she?”
Zoey stared back, confused and frightened.
“Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I learned how to tie this bow from the internet.”
But Fletcher couldn’t accept it.
Every instinct told him she was linked to me—but no matter how hard he searched, he found nothing.
He kept staring at her, as if trying to see through her face to the one behind it.
Floating above, I felt a bitter storm in my chest.
Zoey’s face was maybe half like mine, but the way she moved was different.
Still, if she tried to imitate me, anyone who didn’t know me well might never notice.
Right now, that look on her face… it made Fletcher’s grip soften.
Their eyes locked. Something unspoken began to stir in the air and Zoey’s cheeks burned red.
“Sir… do I look like someone you knew? Do you love that woman so much?”