His answer returned with a resolute mistrust. It doesn’t seem to be a shadow. It seems to be him. My stomach rumbled. It didn’t seem genuine, and I knew precisely who he was referring to.
It seemed as if my history had unexpectedly entered that peaceful day and caught me off guard in a manner that I was unable to fully explain.
Is it possible that my ex was in the area without my knowledge? Or did it simply happen to look precisely like him, a horrible coincidence?
Examining the person in the mirror, I gazed at the picture. The hat, the way he stood—it was all too familiar.
Despite my best efforts to persuade myself differently, the uneasiness persisted. What if he was really hovering just outside of my present in some way? My voice trembling,
