Chapter 66

Second Alex

I slipped back into the guestroom and bolted the door with a trembling hand. Moonlight spilled through the curtains, slashing silver across the floor. I edged over to the window, pried it open, and perched on the narrow sill. The cold night air seeped through my clothes, sharpening my senses. Minutes passed in agonizing stillness until finally my contact materialized in the pale glow outside.

“Well?” I whispered, voice strained.

“He doesn’t remember you,” he said flatly. “And you were right—he’s replaced you.”

A hollow ache bloomed in my chest. “We knew it was a risk,” I replied, though the words tasted bitter. “It still hurts.”

He nodded, the flicker of empathy in his eyes as dim as a dying ember. “I get it. But we need you here. It’s essential to the plan.”

I took a trembling breath, pressing my forehead against the cool window frame. “What about that other woman? Have you sensed anything from her? Heard a whisper—anything tha