Ava's POV
I stared at the card in my hand. "Liam Ross B" was the only thing written in front. What did the "B" mean?
The "B" was written in a strange, almost artistic curve—like someone who practiced their signature too many times until it got perfect. Something tugged at the back of my memory. I had seen this exact style before. But where?
I flipped the card over, hoping for more clues. Nothing. Just a phone number scribbled in black ink on the back. I pulled out my phone and typed the number into the search bar. I hit search.
Nothing.
I stared at the empty search results, a knot tightening in my chest. A private line, maybe? Or just an old number he forgot to delete? That didn't make sense, though. Why would he keep an outdated card in his wallet? My thumb hovered over the call butt
