I frowned, crossing my arms defensively.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I replied coldly. “Move, or I’ll call for help.”
Ryan let out a humorless laugh, his eyes glinting with a mix of anger and something else I couldn’t quite place.
“You think I’m afraid of that?” he challenged, leaning in closer. “Over the years, I’ve been wondering—what changed? Why did you suddenly start hating me?”
My breath hitched, and I took a step back, but he followed, his gaze never leaving mine.
“I’ve been thinking about it, piecing everything together,” he continued, his voice growing more intense. “And now, I finally understand.”
“Ryan, stop,” I warned, my voice faltering slightly.
But he didn’t stop. Instead, he laughed again, a bitter sound that sent chills down my spine.
“You’re not Sophia,” he said, his words cutting through the night like a knife. “Are you?”
My heart pounded violently in my chest as his accusation hung in the air.
I opened my mouth to deny it, to say anything that would make him stop, but the look in his eyes told me it was too late. He had already decided the truth.
“You’ve been different,” Ryan continued, his tone almost mocking. “Smarter. Colder. More…calculated. The Sophia I knew would never have been capable of what you’ve done.”
I forced myself to meet his gaze, my expression hardening.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.
Ryan’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Don’t I?” he challenged. “Tell me, Sophia—if that’s even your name—who are you really?”
The streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement as I turned away from Ryan, my footsteps echoing in the silence.
I didn’t want to argue with him anymore—it felt pointless. But Ryan wasn’t ready to let things go.
“Wait!” he called out, his tone sharp and insistent.
I quickened my pace, but he caught up to me in moments, stepping in front of me with his cold, determined expression.
“No matter who you are,” he said, his voice low but firm, “I just don’t understand why you hate me so much.”
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