His voice was a rasp, barely audible. “You look just like… Claire.”
Lina blinked, startled. “Who’s Claire?”
He didn’t answer. His eyes filled with tears before they rolled him away.
Later, at the hospital, Lina couldn’t stop replaying those words. Her mother, Marilyn, who had been sitting a few rows back on the plane, held her daughter close as reporters buzzed around the story of a young girl saving a wealthy businessman’s life. But Lina wasn’t thinking about the cameras—she was thinking about the name he’d whispered.
The next day, the hospital called. Edward Vaughn had asked to see her.
When Lina and her mother entered his private room, the beeping machines and soft antiseptic scent filled the silence. Edward’s face lit up when he saw them. His voice was steadier now. “You really did save me. But when I saw you, I thought I was seeing a ghost.”
Marilyn stiffened. Her eyes dropped to the floor.
Edward looked from Lina to her mother, confusion and recognition battling in his expression. “Marilyn,” he said slowly, “you used to live in Houston, didn’t you? More than a decade ago?”
She nodded faintly. “Yes.”
“Then… Lina is—” His voice broke before he finished the thought.