Elena’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the scar on Liam’s right leg, a jagged mark shaped almost like a crooked crescent moon.
Her fingers trembled slightly, not from fear, but from a strange familiarity that suddenly stirred in the deepest corners of her memory.
That scar… she had seen something like it before.
But where? And when?
Liam noticed the way her eyes fixed on the mark and immediately pulled the fabric down again, his expression tightening with quiet shame.
“You don’t have to pretend,” he said softly. “Most people look away after a second.”
Elena swallowed hard and shook her head.
“I’m not pretending,” she replied, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “I just… I think I’ve seen that scar before.”
Liam frowned slightly, confusion crossing his face.
“That’s impossible,” he said. “This accident happened when I was a child, and I rarely leave the house anymore.”
