That figure looked strikingly familiar–reminded her a little of Justin.
Edith squinted to make sure.
No mistake. It was Justin.
But tonight, he seemed nothing like his usual dignified, self–controlled self. There was a looseness to his posture, a flush to his cheeks–he was more than a little drunk.
And to make matters worse, a tall, scantily clad woman was draped over his arm, laughing at something he said.
Edith felt her breath hitch, her chest tightening in an instant.
Lauren grabbed her hand, tugging her into the private lounge and teasing, “What’s with the cold feet? It’s just a bunch of young people, don’t be shy.”
Before Edith could protest, she was swept inside. But her mind was still stuck out in that hallway, replaying what she’d just seen.
The lounge was packed with Lauren’s new coworkers from her event planning firm. Several of them recognized Edith right away.
“Wait, isn’t she the graffiti artist who went viral the other day? No way!”
A round of excited chatter broke out. People crowded around Edith, eager to take selfies with her. Her thoughts were a jumble, but she let them pull her in for photos, forcing a polite smile.
Lauren tried to keep things in check. “My sister’s a bit shy, so take your pictures, but please don’t post them online, okay?”
The room was dim and Lauren missed the shift in Edith’s expression, assuming she was just feeling bashful.
After what felt like forever, Edith managed to slip away, murmuring, “Sorry, I need to use the
restroom.”
She didn’t actually want the restroom. She just needed some air.
It wasn’t the crowd or Lauren’s new coworkers suffocating her. It was that scene in the hallway–Justin, the woman clinging to him, the way her features faintly resembled Edith’s own.


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