Andrea George:
Andrea felt him before she saw him.
The air shifted subtle, but undeniable. A tension prickled across the back of her neck, the kind that came from being watched too closely, too carefully. Andrea didn’t look up. She didn’t need to. The presence behind her wasn’t new. It was familiar in a way that made her chest tighten and her hands work faster, even as her focus slipped.
She kept chopping, the soft thud of the knife against the marble countertop steady, controlled. Fresh basil bled its scent into the room _ sharp, green, almost medicinal. The scent grounded her. It gave her something to hold onto.
But she wasn’t grounded. Not really.
Not with him behind her.
Daniel.
Or whatever the hell his name was.
It had been a week since he’d vanished without explanation. N
