Chapter 65

  There, on the collar—just below where the line of his jaw would be—was a smudge. Faint now, faded with time, but unmistakable.Lipstick. Vintage Crimson.The shade she'd worn that night in the elevator. Months ago.

  He'd kept it.

  He'd kept the shirt. With her mark on it. Hidden in his drawer. In ...

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