Vivian’s mother froze.
The color drained from her face like someone had flipped a switch, her breath catching mid-inhale, Her purse slipped from her shoulder, hitting the floor with a soft thud that neither of them acknowledged. Her hands trembled at her sides, curling into fists and then unfurling like they didn’t know what to do.
“She… she what?” she whispered, her voice thin, trembling. “She doesn’t remember… you?”
Christopher didn’t respond right away.
He couldn’t.
He was still standing there like a ghost, blood drying on his arm, eyes glassy, his chest rising and falling in shallow, broken gasps. His lips parted, then closed again. Like maybe the words hurt too much to say twice.
“She looked right at me,” he finally said, barely above a breath. “She looked at me like I was a str
