Chapter 60 Her Dad lookalike

Chapter 60 Her Dad lookalike
Zoe's POV

I couldn't move.

My feet were on the ground but I couldn't feel them.

The man stood there. Right there. Looking back at me with those eyes. That jaw. That face.

My father's face.

On a stranger's body.

"Lady Margaret." Benjamin's voice came from beside me. Easy. Relaxed. Like nothing unusual was happening. "Meet General Luther King."

The man nodded at me. Slow. Formal.

"Lady Margaret." He said.

His voice was deep. Steady. The kind of voice that was used to giving orders and having them followed immediately.

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

"Are you alright?" Luther asked. His eyes moving over my face. Studying me the way a soldier studies something unfamiliar.

"I..." My voice came out wrong. Too thin. Too small. "I'm... yes. I am. I'm fine. I just..." I stopped. Swallowed. "Forgive me I just..."

Benjamin turned to look at me properly now. Those sharp eyes of his missing absolutely nothing.

"You look pale." He said.

"I'm fine." I said again. But even I could hear how unconvincing that was.

Luther was still watching me. That face. Those eyes. I couldn't stop looking and I couldn't keep looking at the same time.

I pulled my gaze away. Looked at Benjamin.

"Is there..." I cleared my throat. "Is there a powder room in this building?"

Benjamin held my gaze for one second. Then he turned and pointed toward the far end of the room. A narrow door half hidden behind a heavy curtain.

"Through there." He said simply.

"Thank you." I said. "Excuse me. Just a moment."

I walked.

Slowly at first. Then faster. Until I pushed through that narrow door and pulled it shut behind me and pressed my back hard against it.

The powder room was small. One lantern on the wall. A basin. A small mirror above it.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

My face was white.

I gripped the edge of the basin with both hands. Squeezed until my knuckles ached.
"Breathe." I whispered to my reflection.
"Just breathe."

I breathed.

In. Out. In. Out.

Then my hand moved on its own. Up to my neck. Fingers finding the chain. Pulling the locket out from under my dress.

I opened it.

Held it up to the lantern light.

The two faces stared back at me. Mama. Dada. The only photograph I had ever had of them. The only proof I had ever had that they existed. That I came from somewhere. That I belonged to someone before the forest. Before mama Amelia found me in the leaves with nothing but this chain around my tiny neck.

I pressed my thumb over my father's face.

Then I looked up at the mirror.

Then back down at the locket.

Same jaw.

Same brow.

Same eyes.

"What is happening." I breathed.

My legs went soft beneath me. I grabbed the basin harder. Felt my whole body sway forward.

The baby kicked.

Hard. Sharp. Like he felt it too.

My free hand flew to my stomach. I hunched slightly over the basin. Eyes squeezing shut.

"I know." I whispered down to him. "I know. I'm sorry."

I stood there for a long moment. Just breathing. Just holding the locket in one hand and my stomach with the other.

Trying to make sense of something that made no sense.

The man out there.

General Luther King.

He looked exactly like the photograph around my neck. Not similar. Not a passing resemblance. Exactly. Like someone had taken my father's face and put twenty more years on it and stood it upright in a room and told it to breathe.

But my father was dead.

My parents were dead.

That was the whole reason I was here. That was the whole reason for everything. Every training session. Every scar. Every year of waiting and planning and surviving.

So who was that man.

A knock on the door.

I straightened immediately. Wiped my face with the back of my hand.

"Lady Margaret." Benjamin's voice. Quiet. Careful for once. "Everything alright in there?"

"Yes." I called back. Firm. Steady.

"Everything is fine. I'll be right out."
A pause.

"Take your time." He said.

His footsteps moved away.

I looked at myself in the mirror one more time.

Then I looked down at the locket.

At my father's face.

At the face of the man standing on the other side of that door.

I closed the locket slowly. Pressed it flat against my chest for just one moment.
Then I tucked it back under my dress. Where it was safe. Where it was mine.
I turned on the tap. Ran cold water over my wrists. Pressed wet fingers against the back of my neck.

Breathed.

Then I straightened up. Smoothed my dress. Lifted my chin.

And walked back out.

They were standing where I had left them. Benjamin leaning against the pillar the way he always leaned against things. Like the world was his personal furniture. Luther standing straight. Arms behind his back. Military. Rigid.

They were talking.

I slowed down without meaning to.

Their voices low but clear enough.

"...I think we should just give her more time—" Benjamin was saying.

"More time." Luther cut him off. Flat. Impatient. "We have been giving time Benjamin. Time is what got us here. Too much time and not enough action."

"Luther—"

"If Mia had even one percent of my courage." Luther's voice came out hard. Tight. Like the words tasted bitter in his mouth. "Just one percent. Is Jeremy not supposed to be dead and buried by now?" He made a sound of disgust low in his throat. "She is weak. Too weak. I raised a weak child and it has cost me everything."

I stopped walking completely.

My heart stopped with me.

Am I in the same room I left few minutes ago?

"She was in that pack house for months." Luther continued. "Months Benjamin. Sleeping under the same roof as Jeremy Dylan. Eating at his table. Wearing his ring on her finger. And she could not do one simple thing." He shook his head slowly. "One thing. That is all I asked of her."

"She got close to him." Benjamin said. Quieter now.

"She got foolish." Luther snapped. "There is a difference."

I stood completely still in the shadow.

Not breathing.

Not moving.

Mia.

Mia was sent to kill Jeremy?