"I never got to find out what the contract was all about, so for now, I don't know. If I do find out later, you'll be the first to know," Matteo said as Isabella looked at him, searching his face for any hint of what he might be holding back.
The afternoon sunlight streaming through the tall windows caught the dust motes dancing in the air between them. Isabella could smell the faint scent of leather from the old books lining the office walls, mixed with Matteo's cologne.
She looked back down at the photos scattered on the desk, seeing herself as a child surrounded by faces she couldn't remember, living a life she couldn't recall. The edges of the photographs were yellowed with age, and one had a small tear in the corner where someone had handled it too many times.
"I don't know who I am anymore," she whispered, the confession torn from her heart. Her voice cracked slightly, and she pressed her lips together to stop them from trembling.
