_Aria’s POV_
I took the photograph with me to the bedroom.
I did not even remember putting the book back on the table. My feet carried me on their own. My fingers were tight around the thin piece of paper, as if I was afraid it would disappear if I loosened my grip.
Once inside the room, I closed the door quietly.
The room felt different now. It was too quiet...too still.
I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the photo again.
I stared for a long time.
The woman did not change. She stayed frozen in time, trapped inside that old image. But the more I looked at her, the heavier my chest felt.
She had my face. It was a perfect match.
The same eyes stared back at me. The same curve of the lips. The same sharp yet soft line of the cheekbones. Even the way her gaze carried a quie
