Elena's POV
I went out for lunch again, trying to shake the heaviness in my chest.
And there he was—standing across the street, the same hood pulled low, the same slow, familiar walk.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I froze.
For a moment, I thought maybe this was a trick of the light, a ghost from my past playing cruel games.
But no. It was real.
I wanted to call out, to run—but my feet felt rooted to the spot.
He didn't turn around. Didn't look my way.
Just kept walking.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, fighting the urge to chase after him.
Instead, I watched until he disappeared into the crowd.
And all I could think was—who was he really?
This person made me forget the imposter, even if just for a moment.
Could it really be Sebastian?
But he's gone.
Or is he?
That question burned hotter than fear—and hope.
I wanted to follow him, get closer, maybe catch a glimpse of his face.
But something held me back—the weight of what I already knew.
