Greyson

I stared at her picture. Still naked but no longer tied to the chair, Cecilia was faltering.

I sensed it.

That feeling ate away at my gut, churning the coffee.

There was no explanation for the connection I felt to a woman I didn’t know. Yet as I stared at this new picture, I saw more than the surface. It wasn’t her beautiful face, her body, or even the newspaper that had my attention, my laser focus; it was her eyes.

The newspaper ...