The Girl Who Shouldn’t Exist
IVY’S POV
The coffee shop was quiet, tucked away in the far corner of town where secrets liked to breathe.
She was already there when I arrived—sitting in the booth by the window, twirling a silver spoon between delicate fingers. Her face lit up when she saw me, but it wasn’t the smile that chilled me.
It was the face.
That face.
The exact replica of the one that had haunted headlines a decade ago.
Lillian Michelson. Seventeen years old. Bright eyes, sweet voice, eager hands.
But no matter how she styled her blonde hair or softened her expression with that practiced innocence, I couldn’t unsee it.
Luna Jones.
The murdered child.
The name the world still whispered about with aching hearts and disbelief.
“Ivy,” she greeted, standing to hug me.
I didn
