Leona's POV
I whipped my head around.
Sunlight streamed diagonally through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and a tall man was walking toward me. His smile was bold, tinged with a hint of rogueish charm, yet his eyes held an unexpected warmth. That face—suddenly, it assembled itself in the depths of my memory.
I froze.
Memories nudged themselves to the surface, urgent and relentless.
—Eric.
Childhood scenes flooded my mind. The days when my mother and I had been forced to move to the outskirts of the community, into that crumbling little house. The wind always bit harder there, and the nights were unnervingly silent. Most people avoided us as though our very presence carried a curse.
Only Eric was different.
He would always appear at dusk, bringing food from who-knows-where, knocking
