My voice came out weaker than I wanted.
He closed the door behind him.
Slowly.
“I think we both know…”
He paused.
“…that I should have been here a long time ago.”
A chill spread through me.
My fingers tightened around the letter.
“Stay back.”
He stopped.
Not because I told him to.
But because he chose to.
His gaze dropped briefly to the paper in my hand.
“She told you.”
Not a question.
A statement.
I didn’t answer.
I couldn’t.
The room felt too small.
The air too heavy.
“You look like her.”
My breath caught.
“Your mother.”
The word hit differently now.
