~ Stephen ~
Something is wrong.
I don’t know what.
I just know I feel it every time she walks into a room.
Becca.
Not Becca.
Whatever the hell she calls herself now.
She laughs at something Jace says across the terrace and it scrapes under my skin.
I’ve seen that tilt of her head before.
I just can’t place it.
I sip my drink and keep watching.
She doesn’t look at me once.
That’s the problem.
Everyone looks at me.
She doesn’t.
It isn’t shyness.
It isn’t avoidance.
It’s indifference.
And I don’t believe it.
Evan steps beside me.
“You’re staring,” he says.
“I’m thinking.”
“About her.”
It’s not a question.
“There’s something off,” I mutter.
Evan stays quiet.
“She feels familiar,” I continue. “Not in a simple way. It’s specific.”
“Like what?”
I replay it.
The way sh
