Fawn’s POV
I couldn’t meet his eyes. My heart hammered in my chest, my mind racing for an explanation that wouldn’t sound insane. What could I possibly say? That I was Fawn Jones, murdered by my husband and his mistress, now inhabiting Cassie’s body? He’d have me committed before I finished the sentence.
“I can’t,” I said finally.
“Can’t or won’t?” Blake’s voice hardened, his jaw tense. “Why were you at a stranger’s funeral, Cassie? Did you know this woman?”
“It’s… that is…” I managed, taking a step back. “I just… felt drawn there.”
Blake moved closer, his eyes never leaving my face. “That’s not an answer. First you claim to have been murdered in a bathtub, then you show up at the funeral of a woman who actually drowned in one? What game are you playing?”
My back hit the wall. There
