With a sigh, I reached over and grabbed the laptop sitting on the table, then pulled it onto my lap. I steeled myself, then typed “Anna Guerra” into the search bar. Nearly a full minute passed before my fingers directed the trackpad to the search button.
My image filled the screen, in all its glory. Brown eyes looked out over full, pouting lips. My skin gleamed against the navy sheets in the background. Eric’s sheets. With the full-body view, the double Ds, and the left leg ending above the ankle, no one who’d met me could doubt the identity of the person in this picture. Even if my name and personal contact information hadn’t been displayed beneath the image.
With a click, a second picture filled the screen. This time I knelt on the bed, peering back over my right shoulder, giving the e
