14

Amelie stepped inside hesitantly. Each step felt heavy, not only because of the lingering pain in her leg, but also because of the weight of suspicion pressing down on her chest. She stood in front of Aaron's large desk, staring at the man with teary eyes. "I heard something earlier," Amelie whispered, her voice trembling. "What were you actually talking about with Eric?" "I'm sorry for asking so abruptly," Amelie said again. Aaron rose from his chair, walking around until he stood just a few inches from Amelie. He looked at the woman's face in front of him. Under the dim light of the desk lamp, Amelie's face looked so beautiful yet fragile. Aaron felt something stir in his chest, a feeling that was unfamiliar, something deeper than just an obsession with Amelie's resemblance to his late wife. He realized, for the first time, that he liked Amelie's pure courage. "We're just talking about administrative procedures, Amelie. Eric is worried that if you're still thinking about the past