You find her behind the theater, smoke curling around her fingertips even though she doesn’t smoke.

She looks up, startled “You followed me?”

You shrug

She smiles faintly. “No one ever does that.” She crushes the unlit cigarette “I’m not who you think I am. And that scares people. So you might want to get out of here before I ruin your perfect little life too.”

But you don’t move. And she doesn’t look away.