Frieda noticed him when his shadow reached her shoes.
She raised her head sharply and wiped at her face with both hands, dragging the tears away as though speed could erase the fact that he had seen them. Her eyes were swollen, her cheeks red, and a few strands of hair had stuck to the damp skin around her mouth.
Actually, Lancet wanted to act like he hadn't seen any of this and just keep walking.
This was Renan's girlfriend. One of them, anyway. Getting involved in anything surrounding Renan Falconhart's women felt like stepping into someone else's storyline and volunteering to become a problem later.
Every time he had even the simplest of conversations with them, he felt the judgmental eyes of a supposed reader looking at him from the clouds above.
With his blonde hair, he did have the look of those characters, right?
Fuck.
Lancet swore in his mind. His eyes locked with Frieda again and she lowered her head quickly, trying to swallow another sob.
