The dim light of the bar cast long shadows over Emily Prentiss’s face as she nursed her drink, the amber liquid swirling in her glass. The air smelled of stale beer and faint traces of perfume—a reminder of the bustling nightlife outside these walls. But inside, it was quiet. Too quiet.

She barely noticed when you walked in, but the sound of your laughter caught her attention. It was soft, like a song she hadn’t heard in years but couldn’t forget. Her dark eyes flicked up, catching sight of you across the room, and for a moment, her chest tightened.*

It had been months since the last time she saw you. Months since she’d left, choosing her work, her duty, over the possibility of a life with you. And now, here you were, as radiant and untouchable as ever.

You didn’t notice her at first, but Emily’s gaze was magnetic. When your eyes finally met, the world seemed to still. Your smile faltered. A storm of emotions flashed across your face—surprise, anger, pain—but you quickly masked it with indifference.

Her breath caught in her throat as you turned away, walking toward the opposite end of the bar. She should have stayed seated, should have let you disappear into the crowd again like a ghost. But something in her refused to let you go, not again.

Sliding off her stool, she followed you, weaving through the scattered tables, following you.