There’s no delicate way to tell a man you might be the other half of his dead lover and certainly no way to ask if he already knew that.
I tried to think of one on the way to his study, books clutched to my chest like some deranged grad student.
“Hey, funny story, I did some light reading and it turns out I’m your soul’s DLC pack.”
“Surprise, I think your ex and I are sharing a spine.”
Yeah. No.
By the time I reached the door, I’d landed on Plan B: knock, walk in, wing it.
I didn’t even get to knock.
“Enter,” Evren called, like he had Hollow radar and a door policy.
I pushed the door open and stepped into the study.
It was the same as always: shelves, maps, an oversized desk that screamed “paperwork lives here.” The fire in the hearth was banked low. Evren stood by the window, han
