Impossible. She must have seen wrong.
How could there be such a bizarre coincidence in the world?
Queenie bought her medication, and the pharmacist offered to inspect her incision.
It was indeed infected. The pharmacist cleaned and dressed the wound, providing immediate relief from the sharpest pain.
She took her oral medication and walked out of the pharmacy. As she headed back toward the hotel, she noticed the man who had bumped into her sitting on a street bench.
To prove it had just been her imagination, Queenie walked over to him.
He was a fellow countryman. Currently, he was hunched over, a violent coughing fit wracking his frail body.
Several boxes of medication sat beside his leg.
"...By any chance, do you know Renata Whitlock?" Queenie asked bluntly.
The man in the baseball cap stiffened instantly. He snapped his head up to look at her.
The moment their eyes met, Queenie knew for sure. It was him!
"You know Renata? How... how do you know me?"
He looked incredibly agitated.
Unfortunately, his face was deathly pale. Dark circles bruised his eyes, and his cheekbones were hollowed out.
"I saw a picture of you at her place."
That simple sentence made the man's eyes immediately well up with tears.
He muttered frantically to himself, "She didn't forget me. She still remembers me. I knew it... she still loves me..."
"I found that picture in the trash can."
Queenie dropped the second sentence without missing a beat.
She knew the words would hit him like a freight train.
But seeing the man drowning in his own delusions, Queenie felt that giving him a dose of reality was the only kind thing to do.
Just as expected, his eyes lost their focus at her last words.
"W-what did you say?"



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