WillowRidge
“I want to know why you called me Beasty. Why you keep acting like we’ve met before. I want to know why you’re here, in WillowRidge, and why it feels like you already know me.”
He nodded, setting his glass down on the table between us. “Alright. The truth, then.”
Adam leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “We did know each other, Beatrix. When we were children. My family moved to WillowRidge when I was eleven, and from the moment I met you, I felt connected to you in a way I couldn’t explain.”
I frowned, trying to pull memories from the fog of my childhood. “I don’t remember that.”
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