Page 18 of Manic

I clear my throat, trying to regain my composure. "So, uh, who's this lovely young lady?"

Before Meghan can respond, the girl extends her hand, a confident smile on her face. "I'm Tindra, and you are?"

I take her hand, noting how her grip is firm, just like her mother's. "I'm Tor, an old friend of your mom's from back in the day."

Tindra's eyes light up with recognition.

She cocks her head to the side, studying me intently. "Wait a second. You're the guy in all the photos! Mom, didn't you say that he was?—?"

Meghan's hand claps over Tindra's mouth so fast I almost miss it.

She lets out a nervous laugh, her eyes darting to mine before focusing back on her daughter. "Tindra's a real talker, this one. Never knows when to stop."

I watch as Tindra rolls her eyes dramatically at her mom's interruption.

The gesture is so familiar, so Meghan-like, that it makes my chest ache.

I'm not an idiot.

The similarities between them are striking, but there's something else there too.

Something I can't quite put my finger on.

Meghan clears her throat, clearly trying to change the subject. "So, Tor, can I get you something to eat? We've got some great pastries, sandwiches, or if you're in the mood for something sweeter, our blueberry muffins are to die for."

My stomach growls at the mention of food, reminding me that I haven't eaten since early this morning. "A blueberry muffin sounds perfect, actually. Thanks, Meg."

She nods, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Coming right up. I'll go grab that for you."

As Meghan turns to head toward the counter, I can't help but wonder what Tindra was about to say before her mom cut her off.

As soon as Meghan's out of earshot, I turn my attention to Tindra.

Time for a little reconnaissance. "So, Tindra, how old are you?" I keep my tone casual, friendly.

Tindra's face lights up, clearly happy to chat. "I'm fourteen, turning fifteen soon!" Her enthusiasm is infectious, reminding me of Meghan when we were young.

I nod and smile, my mind racing.

Fourteen, almost fifteen.

The timing... it can't be a coincidence. "Wow, soon you'll be sixteen and driving," I say, probing for more information.

Tindra laughs, a sound so eerily similar to Meghan's that it sends a shiver down my spine. "Actually, I've already done the research. In Florida, I can get my learner's permit at fifteen! I'll be on the road in no time."

Before I can ask any more questions, Meghan returns, a box of goodies in her hands.

"Here you go, Tor," she says, passing me the box.

Our fingers brush, and I feel that old familiar spark.

I take a moment to really look at her.

Time has been kind to Meghan.

Her curves have filled out in all the right places, her breasts more luscious than I remember.

Her skin is still flawless, glowing even under the café's soft lighting.

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