Her body shifted—subtle, but ready. Aware.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
Calm. Polite. Controlled.
I stopped a few feet away.
Just looked at her.
Because this wasn’t possible.
“Felicity?”
The name slipped out.
Her brows pulled together slightly.
“That’s me,” she said slowly. “Do I know you?”
That hit harder than it should have.
“You don’t recognize me?” I asked.
She studied me. Really looked.
Head tilted. Eyes narrowing just slightly—searching.
And then—
“No.”
Flat. Certain.
That wasn’t possible.
“You’re telling me you don’t remember me?”
Her arms crossed—not defensive. Just steady.
“I’m telling you I don’t,” she said. “And I think I’d remember someone who looks like you.”
Fair.
Didn’t change anything.
“You sat in the back row of Mr. Hanley’s class,” I said. “Always had your notebook out. You—”
I stopped.
Because now she was looking at me like I’d crossed a line.
“I think you have me confused with someone else,” she said carefully.
I shook my head.
“No. I don’t.”
She shifted slightly, studying me harder now.