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“How do you know Lucy? Who the hell is Tiffany?” Tristan asked. “Uh… I— I… she… uhm…” why on Earth was I stuttering? “Please speak to me.” He shoved the box aside to move closer to me, holding my hands that began to vibrate. “Tristan, I— I don’t… really… wh—” “Hazel,” he called with his teeth gritted in frustration. “I— I— I’m… I don’t think she’s who… no, Lucy isn’t Tiffany. She just really looks like her.” I ended with a nervous smile, hoping he wasn’t going to press further. “So who the hell is Tiffany? And why do you seem so scared to see her again?” He was starting to frown really hard. “Uh… she’s…” I was trying to think of the perfect way to describe Tiffany, but nothing sensible could fit. “Tristan, please forget it.” “Forget it?!” He snapped, jerking to his feet and let
- Writer
