Chapter 653

Rosalind stood paralyzed as the speeding vehicle hurtled toward her.

At the critical second, a powerful arm encircled her waist, pulling her against a firm chest. The car's side mirror grazed her sleeve as it roared past.

Heart pounding, Rosalind tilted her head upward.

There he was.

The masked stranger she'd been desperately seeking now stood before her in broad daylight.

"It's you," she breathed.

Everett released her carefully, his deep voice steady. "You've been searching for me?"

"Yes," she confirmed without hesitation.

"Pay attention to your surroundings next time," he advised coolly, already turning to leave.

Rosalind rushed after him. "Who are you? We've met before—I know we have."

His response was flat. "We're strangers."

"That's impossible!" She grabbed his sleeve. "You saved me twice today—first from those armed men, now this. Why?"

"Basic human decency," he replied without emotion.

Rosalind's grip tightened. "You're lying. I recognize you."

A pause. Then quietly: "Are you mistaking me for someone you loved?"

The question struck like lightning. Her fingers trembled slightly. "Someone I... used to love."

Everett went still. "I see."

There was something heartbreaking in his tone.

"Why the mask?" Rosalind pressed, matching his stride. "What are you hiding from me?"

A shrug. "Not hiding. Just sparing people the horror of my face."

Horror?

Preposterous!

Everett had been campus royalty—girls had literally fought over his attention. That chiseled jawline, those piercing eyes. This scar story didn't add up.

"Prove it," she challenged. "Remove the mask."

"Go home, Rosalind."

She planted herself in his path, fiery determination in her hazel eyes. "Not until I see your face."

Everett studied her stubborn expression. "I'm not who you think I am."

"Then show me."

"You truly want this?"

"More than anything."

"Very well."

Rosalind's pulse skyrocketed. Closing the distance, she reached for the black fabric concealing his features.

This was Everett Sinclair. She'd bet her life on it.

The mask slipped away—revealing a nightmare landscape of twisted flesh. No trace remained of the handsome student she remembered, only grotesque scarring.

She recoiled instinctively, hand flying to her mouth.

Wordlessly, Everett replaced his mask. "Satisfied? Am I your lost love?"

Rosalind shook her head, mortified. "I... I was wrong. Forgive me."

"Go home."

"Thank you. For everything today."

A curt nod. Then he vanished into the crowd, leaving Rosalind standing frozen on the sidewalk, her world turned upside down.