Cecilia
I ended the call, turned around—and nearly collided with a man who clearly had no concept of personal space.
Which was odd, because I could’ve sworn I saw him walk past just a minute ago.
Now he was standing there like a ghost waiting for his cue in a very awkward off-Broadway show.
“Uh, can I help you?” I asked, polite but wary.
I did a quick mental scan of his face and came up blank.
No recognition.
Nothing.
He just stared at me. Hard. Like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve using only vibes.
Then, in a whisper so faint I almost missed it, he said, “Rebecca…”
Okay. Creepy.
“Sir?” I tried again, injecting some steel into my voice. “Is there something you need?”
That seemed to snap him out of it.
He blinked, cleared his throat like a man
