Naomi’s POV
The video stopped.
Still frame. Alexander’s face.
Smiling.
I could feel my stomach aching.
No, no, this can't be true.
I replayed the clip again, heart pounding harder with every second. The angle was shaky, like it had been captured from a phone tucked in someone’s coat. But it was clear enough. My drunken laugh. My stumble. And Alexander—offering a drink, steadying me, leading me out.
Not Raymond.
Or was it?
I pressed pause. Zoomed in. The man’s profile was so much like Raymond’s—same strong jaw, same confident stride. In the haze of heartbreak and alcohol, I could have confused them.
Had I?
No. I remembered the dragon tattoo.
Except… Did I really?
I shut the laptop, hands trembling.
Everything I thought I knew was cracking. Miranda. Raymond. Me.
If that night
