The fluorescent overhead light caught the side of Evan’s face, casting a sharp shadow across his jaw.

I stared at him, my breath catching in my throat as the angle of the light changed.

There was a small, crescent-shaped scar just below his left earlobe.

I had seen that scar before, years ago, in a faded polaroid photo kept in a velvet box.

My mind raced backward, tearing through memories I had spent three years trying to bury in the damp soil of Long Island.

“Evan,” I whispered, stepping closer to him, ignoring the hum of the servers. “Your last name. It isn’t Morris.”

Evan didn’t look at me, but his shoulders went rigid beneath Lorenzo’s grip.

“What are you talking about, Hunter?” Lorenzo asked, his eyes darting between us.

“His name is Evan Miller,” I said, my voice rising as the horror of realization settled into my chest. “He changed it.”

Evan slowly turned his head to look at me, the fear in his eyes hardening into something cold and familiar.

“You’re Sean’s brother,” I said, the words tasting like ash. “The older brother who went to medical school.”