Inside the tiny fitting room, Briony stood frozen, her arms full of lacy lingerie she had no intention of trying on.

The space was barely three feet wide-cramped even for one person. But, as if that weren't enough, this particular fitting room opened up to a narrow staircase leading to a loft above a makeshift storage attic.

She heard footsteps approaching.

Sensing something, Briony looked up.

A figure dressed in black appeared in the doorway.

It was a man-black baseball cap pulled low, half his face hidden behind a mask, only his eyes visible: narrow, deep-set, and impossible to read.

He was tall. With two long strides, he descended the twisting wooden steps from the attic and stood before her.

The moment he appeared, Briony understood what Mary had been planning all along.

She stared at the man in front of her, her thoughts scattered, as if time itself had stopped.

was still dressed as

believed Stewart was dead-he had to

in

him she already knew

silence, each lost in their own

was

a weary sigh,

features, striking and familiar, nothing like the scarred, twisted

ever existed during

pulled off the

He was scared, too.

Briony wouldn't want to see him.

he

than a whisper, trembling with emotion. He felt a

say, and yet,

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