“That is a lie,” he said.

He took another step closer, his shadow falling over us.

The bright lobby lights reflected off his polished shoes.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice dropping.

“I am Claire,” I said.

“Claire Ellis.”

He froze.

The pink paper fluttered slightly in his hand.

He stared at me, his eyes scanning my face, looking at my eyes, my jaw, my hair.

“Claire,” he whispered.

The name seemed to hang in the cold air between us.

“Do you know a woman named Elena?” he asked.

The sound of her name made my breath catch in my throat.

My knees felt weak, and I had to lean slightly against the marble pillar behind me.

I gripped Ruby’s shoulder tighter.

“I used to,” I said, my voice barely audible.

“She was my sister,” Nathaniel said.

He looked at me with a sudden, desperate intensity.

“She died twelve years ago,” he said.

“I know,” I whispered.

He looked at the pink eviction notice, then back at me.

“She talked about a Claire,” he said.

“A friend she trusted more than anyone else in the world.”