King:
I see you, Ivy. The real you.
Then I open my text thread with Declan and scroll back to before everything fell apart. To when we were still... whatever we were.
Declan:
You don't need to prove anything to anyone. You're already enough.
Declan:
I see you, Ivy. All of you.
The phrasing. The cadence. The way both of them use my name is similar.
My hands start to shake.
No. It's a coincidence. People say similar things. It doesn't mean...
But then I remember the timeline. King appeared the same day I met Declan and lost my phone. King was silent when Declan's phone was taken. He reappeared right when the phone was returned.
My stomach turns.
I grab my bag and leave the lab, the fluorescent lights buzzing behind me. By the time I get back to my new home, Sloane is sprawled on the couch in an oversized band t-shirt, flippingthrough a magazine with a glass of wine balanced precariously on the armrest.
"Whoa." She sits up. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I need to ask you something about King." I drop my bag and sit across from her, my pulse hammering. “Describe him to me again."
She frowns. "Why?"
"Please, Sloane. Just describe him."
She sets down her magazine, lips turning down.
“I don’t remember what he look like.”
“Try to remember, for my sake.”
She stares into space for a long time.
"Uh, he was tall. Like, over six feet. Dark hair… kind of messy but in that intentional way, you know? And it had some reddish tones in certain light."
My chest tightens.
"What else?"
"Green eyes, I think? Nope, maybe hazel. Green or hazel eyes. He was wearing expensive workout clothes. Under Armor or something. He had this really nice watch." She pauses. "Oh, and tattoos on his right arm. I didn't see the whole thing, but it looked intricate."
The room tilts. I grip the couch cushion.
"Sloane." My voice comes out strangled. "Did he look like he could be one of Marcus's teammates?"
Her eyes widen slightly. "I mean... yeah. Now that you mention it, he definitely had that athlete vibe. Why?"
I don't answer. Instead, I pull out my laptop with trembling hands and open the Raptors website. The team roster loads slowly, too slowly, and I click through to the player profiles.
Faces scroll past. Jake Morrison. Misha Volkov. Tyler Chen. Connor Hayes.
