“I think I’ve seen you before,” Mirella said. She was looking at his face in profile in the dim light. He turned to look at her, and she was certain of it. “In Ohio.” “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She rose from the bench. “You were under the overpass,” she said. “In Ohio, when I was a kid. That was you, wasn’t it?” He frowned. “I think you’re mistaking me for someone.” “No, I think it was you. You were under the overpass. Right before the police came, before you were arrested. You said my name.”
