Esther's POV
The door swung shut behind them, leaving behind a silence that felt louder than any noise. I stood there in the sorting room, surrounded by the smell of old paper and dust, and my whole world was tilting. My hands were trembling. I brought them up to look at them, like they belonged to someone else.
Jolina. Josh.
The names echoed in the hollow space inside my head. The girl's face, streaked with tears and a hope so fierce it had burned me… it had felt like looking into a ghost. A ghost of myself, maybe. And the boy, with eyes that held a decade of hurt, hiding in the shadows.
My chest ached where she'd collided with me. The feel of her arms around my waist, the desperate press of her face against my sweater, it had triggered something. Not a memory, not a clear picture. A feeling. A wave of warmth and terror all mixed together, so strong it had stolen my breath.
