Elena’s POV

I shouldn’t have recognized her so quickly.

She was bundled from head to toe with a scarf, mask, oversized coat, but a silhouette like Stella’s was something I couldn’t erase, even if I wanted to. Some shapes brand themselves into you, no matter how many lifetimes you try to outrun them.

Stella.

At the gynecology clinic.

For a moment I thought I imagined it. Maybe my eyes were tired. Maybe I was projecting anxieties onto the nearest familiar shadow. But as soon as I ...