The next day, a heavy sense of déjà vu slammed into me when I walked into Scarlett’s studio at RAB for the first time in two months. It looked exactly the same as it did my first day here, and memories resurfaced like vivid snapshots from the past. The bag. The realization that she was the mystery girl from the pub. The shock when I found out she was also Vincent’s sister. The events felt like they happened both yesterday and a century ago. I’d walked in resentful of my forced training and reentered head over heels for my trainer. It was funny how one summer could change so much.
