“Zoey Stone. Female. Thirty-two years old…” The assistant read from the file, his tone cautious.
Fletcher’s brow tightened with every detail.
“We ran a thorough check, sir. As far as we can tell, this woman– Zoey has no connection to Ashley. Honestly, I doubt they even know each other.”
His expression didn’t change. Fingers tapped lightly on the desk. “Okay. You can go.”
From that day forward, Fletcher’s attention began to settle more and more on Zoey.
One evening after work, she was cornered in a narrow alley by a few drunk louts, seconds away from being assaulted.
Sitting in his black luxury car, Fletcher watched, face unreadable.
Just as they reached for her dress strap, a fist came down hard. The drunks were kicked to the ground in an instant.
Zoey, still shaken, looked up at him. “It’s you again? Thank you…for saving me.”
Fletcher said nothing, only shrugged off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.
“Where do you live? I’ll take you home.”
She shook her head with a bitter smile. “I don’t have a home. I can’t afford rent. I’ve been sleeping in the hotel’s cleaning supply room.”
He looked at her in surprise. Half an hour later, he handed her a bank card.
“Stop working at the hotel. Come be my assistant.”
Her eyes lit up, joy breaking across her face.
From then on, she became Fletcher’s personal assistant.
His clothes—Zoey ironed them.
His schedule—Zoey arranged it.
And she handled it better than anyone before her.
But one day, Fletcher came home early. He leaned against the doorway, watching her tidy his wardrobe.
The longer he looked, the darker his expression grew.
“How do you know this way of tying a bow?”
He crossed the room in a few strides, seizing the tie in her hands, his own trembling.
Only one person he knew tied bows that way—me.
Back in that shabby rented apartment, I used to do it just to make him laugh.
Even the strings around a cake box, I’d tie into this same bow.
Fletcher’s eyes turned red as he gripped Zoey’s shoulders.
“Tell me! What’s your connection to Ashley? Where is she?”
Zoey stared back, confused and frightened.
“Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I learned how to tie this bow from the internet.”
But Fletcher couldn’t accept it.
Every instinct told him she was linked to me—but no matter how hard he searched, he found nothing.
He kept staring at her, as if trying to see through her face to the one behind it.
Floating above, I felt a bitter storm in my chest.
Zoey’s face was maybe half like mine, but the way she moved was different.
Still, if she tried to imitate me, anyone who didn’t know me well might never notice.
Right now, that look on her face… it made Fletcher’s grip soften.
Their eyes locked. Something unspoken began to stir in the air and Zoey’s cheeks burned red.
“Sir… do I look like someone you knew? Do you love that woman so much?”
Fletcher’s gaze cleared a little. He began to let go—but Zoey suddenly winced, her body tilting backward.
“My head… it’s spinning, sir…”
He caught her before she could fall.
That was the exact moment June appeared in the doorway.
She froze, her face drained of color. The teacup in her hand slipped, shattering on the floor with a sharp crash.
