Cyndi felt her breath leave her lungs in a sharp, painful rush.
Nothing in her life had ever prepared her for this version of Alex Hort, the man standing before her felt like a stranger wearing a familiar face.
"Al… Alex…" she stammered, struggling weakly to pry her hand away, but Alex had already crossed a line she could not reach him from.
Fragments of sound seemed to echo in his mind, the nurses' voices, the memory of Maurice's hand resting on her shoulders, then lower along her back. Those images twisted together, feeding something dark inside him.
As though jolted by a sudden thought, he stepped back abruptly, as if her skin burned him.
Cyndi coughed harshly, pressing her palm against her chest as she tried to steady her breathing. Her eyes reddened, tears gathering despite her effort to hold them back.
Then the metallic clink of his belt broke through the silence. Her entire body froze.
Her breath caught, her eyes widening in dawning fear.
