The exact same words, in the exact same tone she remembered.
Lianne froze on the spot.
She looked up at him.
The light filtering through the red lanterns illuminated where Seth Sinclair stood. With one hand tucked in his pocket, he was a confluence of light and shadow—one part carefree abandon, one part mature composure.
Seth had never seen Lianne so frantic.
Sure, she had rushed to find Ethan Sinclair on her last trip from Imperia to New York, but her expression had remained calm and rational then. Now, she was in a full-blown sprint, recklessly cutting through the surging crowd. Her eyes were fiercely determined, though he had no idea where she was going or what she intended to do.
Seth simply watched as she, like a fearless fledgling eagle, barreled headfirst into his arms.
"What's the rush? Ghost chasing you?"
Her mind went blank for a moment. Lianne was panting, her heart hammering in her chest at an impossible rhythm.
