"Would you mind taking off your gloves to show my wife?" Remington asked gently, his voice filled with a subtle curiosity. "I don't mind at all. I was just worried about startling Mrs. Dashiell," came the calm reply.

Lizetta was somewhat puzzled by their exchange, but Eileen set down her glass of water and slowly removed her gloves. Despite preparing herself for something unusual, Lizetta couldn't help but flinch and pale slightly at the sight of Eileen's hands.

Eileen's right hand was missing a thumb, cleanly it had been severed at the base.

The scar was smooth, healed over time, but the sight was still jarringly discomforting.

Lizetta, managing to suppress her shock, politely averted her gaze and spoke with a strained voice, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, really. It's been many years. I've gotten used to it."

Lizetta's trembling hand in his own, before saying to Eileen,

understandingly and walked into the

shock, turned to Remington.

had her suspicions but hoped the reality wasn't as grim as she

that led me to her. I thought she was Stella." Remington's voice was

beat; it seemed disbelief slowed her

you'd rather not talk about it, that's okay. I won't ask further," she murmured, with her

decision to bring Lizetta here today was to share his past with her, a past that included Stella; it was a taboo subject that he had never been able to discuss

mine. I had gotten hot and took off my jacket and

furious and panicked, took us both

bindings while the remaining kidnapper was

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