Bree Collins. 27. Same age as me. Same career field. Same city.
Same face.
I zoomed in on her LinkedIn photo. It was like looking in a mirror. The same bone structure, the same eyes, the same slight asymmetry in our smiles.
We could be twins. But I'm an only child.
I didn't tell Marcus anything. I smiled through dinner, let him kiss me goodnight, lay next to him while he slept. Every touch made my skin crawl.
The next morning, I called in sick to work. And I went to find Bree.
I waited outside her office building for three hours. Creepy? Yes. Necessary? Absolutely.
She walked out at noon, heading for a coffee shop. I followed.