He is at his hotel room door before he realizes he’s forgotten the coffee. Too late now, he thinks, and unlocks the door.
She smiles up at him from the bed, then notices his pallor. “My god. What happened?”
He feels his knees begin to buckle, collapses into a chair, the sweat running down the small of his back. He wipes his face with his hand.
She gets out of bed now, comes and kneels next to him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I have,” he says. “I think I have.”
She goes to the basin and pours a glass of water and brings it to him. She sits in the chair across from him, waiting.
He wipes his face again. “I know this sounds mad, but I saw Marnie at the Markt. It was definitely her. I even recognized the scarf I’d given her.”
She closes her eyes. Not this again. Not here.
This story is a reimagining of Boileau-Narcejac’s classic mystery D’entre les Morts, which served as the basis for Hitchcock’s classic thriller Vertigo.