"I don't have to explain myself to you," Nathan spat, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Fiona is gone. I know that better than anyone. Whatever you think you saw or whatever you think I'm feeling, you're wrong."
"Is that what you tell yourself at night?"
"You can lie to the world, Nathan, but you can't lie to her ghost. She's in that house, isn't she? Not the Russian girl. The memory. And you're over there trying to replace her because you're too weak to stay alone. It's disgusting."
"I said stay out of my head, Natasha!" Nathan roared. He felt a tear prick his eye, but he brushed it away angrily. "I'm hanging up. Don't call this number again."
"Go back to her then," Natasha laughed, a sound that made him feel uncomfortable. "Go back and pretend you aren't falling for a fake. But just remember, every time you touch her, you're erasing Fiona. Sleep well, Nathan."
The line went dead.
