Chapter 4 Becoming eva

When morning came, I got dressed. I put on my uniform. And walked back to the café. 

Signor Benedetto didn't apologize. He didn't even look at me. He just pointed to the tables that needed cleaning and walked away. 

I cleaned them. 

The day crawled by. Customers came and went. I smiled and served and pretended I was human instead of a ghost. My wrist was bruised where the man grabbed me. I kept my sleeves pulled down to hide it. 

By evening, I was numb, exhausted and empty. 

The café was almost empty when I started closing up. Just a few customers finished their drinks. I wiping down the tables near the window when I heard it. 

The sound of a car pulling up outside. It was expensive and it made a quiet sound. The kind of car that didn't belong in this neighborhood. 

I looked up. 

Four men stepped out first. They were tall, broad-shouldered, moving with the kind of precision that made my skin crawl. My guts told me they weren't here for coffee. 

Then another man stepped out. 

He was massive. Tall enough that he had to duck slightly getting out of the car. His suit was perfect, tailored to fit his powerful frame. His hair was dark, touched with silver at the temples, slicked back like he’d stepped out of a movie. And his face. God, his face. It was beautiful in a severe, and brutal way. Like something carved from stone. 

But it was his eyes that made my heart stop. 

Ice blue. Cold, empty, and haunted. 

He walked into the café, and the air changed. The few remaining customers looked up, then quickly looked away. Even Signor Benedetto went still behind the counter. 

The man sat at the back, and ordered for the most expensive wine. 

I looked away, carefully minding my business. I moved carefully, using my dance skills to move without making a sound. 

Then I heard the sound of glass breaking. I looked up towards his direction. He was staring at me as though he had seen a ghost. 

One of his men said something, but he didn't seem to hear it. He just stared at me like I'd stabbed him,like I'd turn his heart out with my bare hands. 

I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. 

There was something in his expression that terrified me. I didn't know what it was, but it wasn't anger. 

The café was completely silent. I wanted to run. Every instinct screamed at me to run. But my feet wouldn't move. I just stood there, with a cloth in my hand, staring at this stranger who looked at me like was a ghost. 

His lips moved. I couldn't hear what he said, but I saw his men move fast. Too fast. In my direction. I stumbled backward, knocking into a table. 

Glasses rattled and fell. I opened my mouth to scream but one of them was already behind me, his hand clamped over my mouth. 

I bit down hard. He cursed but didn't let go. 

Not today again! 

I kicked. I trashed. I tried to grab onto anything, the tables, the chairs, the counter. But there were too many of them and they were too strong. 

“Let me go!” I screamed when the hand briefly left my mouth. “Please! I don't know you! Please!” 

“Signor Benedetto!” I looked desperately at my boss. “Call the police! Please!” 

Signor Benedetto turned away, just like had last night. 

No one was going to save mw. No one ever did. 

Who were this men? And what could they want from someone like me? 

One of the men pulled out a cloth. Before I could scream again, he pressed it over my nose and mouth. My vision blurred at the edges. The café tilted and spun. 

The last thing I saw was him. Still standing there. Still watching me with those terrible, haunted eyes. 

Then everything went dark. 

When I woke up, I wasn't in my apartment. I wasn't in the café. I was in a bedroom that wasn't mine, wearing a silk nightgown I'd never seen before, lying in a bed that was softer than anything I'd ever touched. 

And he was there. 

Sitting in a chair in the corner, watching me in a dim light. His elbows were on his knees, his hands were clasped together, but his eyes never left my face. 

I tried to sit up, but my body felt heavy. My mouth was dry. My head pounded. 

“Where am I?” My voice cracked. "What do you want from me?” 

He leaned forward slowly and I could see the pain in his expression. 

His voice was below a whisper. 

“Eva.”

Rafael 

She stared at me with those brown eyes. They was so different from Eva's green ones, yet the face was exactly the same. 

She pressed herself against ghe the headboard like she could disappear into it. 

“Eva,” I said again, softer this time. 

“My name is Flora.” Her voice shook. “Flora Rossi. I'm not Eva. I don't know who Eva is. Please, you have you believe me.” 

I stood slowly, and she flinched. The movement sent a sharp pain through my chest. Eva never flinched from me. Eva looked at me like I hung the moon and stars. But this woman, this version of her, looked at me like I was a monster. 

“You don't remember,” I said, more to myself than to her. “Of course you don't remember. But you will. I'll help you remember everything.” 

“Remember what? I've never met you before in my life!” She was crying now, tears streaming down her face. “Please, whoever you think I am, you're wrong. I'm just a waitress. I'm nobody. Please let me go home.” 

Home. That tiny apartment Marco told me about. That was falling apart, and barely livable. That wasn't a home. That was a prison. 

This was her home. With me. Where she belonged. 

“You're home, Eva.” 

“Stop calling me that!” Her voice rose to a scream. “My name is Flora! Flora! Why won't you listen to me?” 

I walked to the door and opened it. Marco was standing there. 

“Boss, this is insane.” His face was red with anger. It was the first time in twenty years I'd seen him lose his composure. “You can't do this. You can't just kidnap some innocent girl off the street because she looks like Eva.” 

“She doesn't just look like Eva.” I breathed. “She is Eva. Reborn. And sent back to me.” 

“That's not how death works and you know it.” 

“Eva told me to find her again. Those were her last words. Find me again. And I did. I found her.” 

“You found a waitress who happens to share some features with your dead wife.” Marco's voice dropped, becoming almost gentle. “Rafael, I loved Eva too. But she's gone. This girl, Flora, she's not Eva. She's a completely different person.” 

“Then I'll make her into Eva.” The words came out cold, and final.