Sophia Locke knew the precise moment her life split in two. It was January 7th, 2025, at 8:14 PM. The rain was a grey curtain over the city, and the little bell above the door of SweetSinner , her patisserie, had just jingled.

She reached under the counter and pulled out a stained apron.

She looked up from dusting a batch of mille-feuille with powdered sugar. The man who entered was a ghost from a life she’d buried so deep, not even her closest friend knew its coordinates.

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