"Ivanka? Are you there?" Bryan called when she went mute.
She pulled herself together and blinked rapidly.
"Uh... thank you, Bryan. I'll forward your balance to you shortly."
"Okay, no p. Glad I could be of help."
The call ended.
Ivanka exhaled deeply and blinked back the tears that had gathered up on her lids.
God! What was she thinking? Alaric was dead. Dead! She had seen his body, as well as his mother's. The fire was real. His body had been real. Why on earth would she think he was standing right in front of her? With a different face?
Christ! She had obviously lost it. Maybe she finally needed the psychiatrist her mother had been offering her years ago.
Something cold ran along her cheek. She touched it and discovered it was a tear. Damnit. This wasn't the right time or place
