Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 80942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
I’m going to make this fucking personal and stab him until all his blood pours out.
No one touches Lia and lives.
No fucking one.
After I’m done with Richard, I don’t rejoin Kolya and, instead, choose to walk on foot.
To watch Lia.
She’s marching in front of me, oblivious to her surroundings and me. She keeps sipping from a drink that she shoplifted when Yan wasn’t around. Lia was never an alcoholic and she’s not one now either. She just believes she’s Winter—and because Winter was an alcoholic, Lia thinks she is as well.
I make sure Yan dilutes her beer when she’s not looking. I won’t allow her to develop an addiction that she’ll regret.
My wife is wearing a coat and shoes that are a few sizes too big. Yan mentioned that she always complains about the cold and the winter weather. I wish I could take her home, wash her, and tuck her in a warm bed.
After what happened with the shelter’s fucking director, I’m paranoid that the incident will repeat. That she’s no longer safe, even if my guards and I are almost always watching her.
What if I lose track of her and can’t get to her in time?
She stops in front of a New York City Ballet poster, her brow furrowing as she studies it. My feet come to a halt a small distance away, but as usual, she doesn’t notice me.
Will she ever?
Lia remains there for several long seconds, her body slightly trembling before she crunches her can and throws it in the trash.
Well. That’s interesting.
At least she remembers her connection to ballet.
Winter was never a ballerina. However, Lia somehow has it in her mind that she was and even told Yan that she was pushed out by an evil prima ballerina who asked her to seduce her husband.
Per my knowledge, Winter was never married, nor has she had a long-term relationship.
Dr. Taylor mentioned that Lia invented her version of Winter and she could have used references from her own life to fill in the gaps.
I wonder if Lia asked Winter to seduce me. After all, she did want a stranger to take her place in my life.
As if that would ever be fucking possible.
After throwing away the can, Lia starts to cross the street without lifting her head. A van speeds down the street and she’s completely oblivious to it.
I don’t think as I grab her by the elbow and pull her back. For a second, I bask in the feel of touching her, even though layers of clothing are separating us.
Even though she doesn’t smell of roses right now.
I haven’t gotten this close since the hospital. And she didn’t even remember me at the time. She had memory lapses later and didn’t recall the first encounters with me. Dr. Taylor, who visited again, said it was normal for someone in Lia’s state to erase everything from their previous lives. Apparently, only her new identity matters and my attempts to talk to her only caused her to escape deeper in her mind.
To a place where I couldn’t reach.
Lia startles but then flips off the driver when he calls her names. I make sure to memorize his license plate so I can cut out his tongue later.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
I probably shouldn’t be talking to her, in case she has a panic attack like in the hospital, but I couldn’t resist.
I miss her.
I miss my Lia, and the fact that she doesn’t remember me has been eating at my soul like the crashing waves that swallowed her that night.
Lia finally looks at me and she pauses, her aqua eyes widening and her breath audibly hitching.
She observes me intently as if she knows me. Maybe not on the surface, but deep in her heart.
Hope blossoms in my chest because I know, I just know that I can have my wife back.
Lia
Four weeks later
I think I’m crazy.
Either that or everything I just learned is true and I’ve lost nearly two months of my life.
Two months of believing I was Winter.
Two months of escaping my true identity.
Two months of…lies.
Flashback upon flashback slice through my battered head with the wrecking force of a thunderstorm.
My life plays in front of me like a distorted movie, one where the audience doesn’t know the ending until it strikes them in the face.
My name is Lia Volkov.
It’s not Winter. I’m not homeless.
I have a husband, and Jeremy is indeed my son.
Winter has always been a figment of my imagination. No, not my imagination. She’s a real person whose identity I used so I could escape my own.
Why…? Just why…would I do that?
I sag against the wall in the dim, narrow alleyway and stare up at Luca through my blurry vision. When I planned to escape with Jeremy and texted my childhood friend for help, I didn’t think he’d plot an entire masquerade. I never would’ve anticipated it was he who sent the circus clown to where I was waiting in the park in order to distract the guards and Jeremy so that he could pull me into this alley.