(Pamela)..I MAKE IT exactly three steps down the hallway before my legs give way.My back hits the wall and I slide down to the floor, my carefully composed facade crumbling the moment I'm out of Massimo's sight. The marble is cold against my skin, but it's nothing compared to the ice spreading through my chest.‘Oh, Elsa.’The name keeps echoing in my head on repeat and each repetition feels like a fresh wound. Not my name, Pamela. But Elsa, his dead wife, the woman whose shadow I've apparently been living in this entire time without even knowing it.I press my hands to my face and try to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill over. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have missed all the signs?The way he sometimes looked at me with that strange and unreadable expression, like he was seeing someone else. The way he'd been so insistent on this arrangement, on taking in Erik, and on bringing me into his home.It was never about me. It was about her. It was about
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