What can a pretty face do in the face of a snaky heart?
She put on a smile nevertheless and reached out her hand. "Hi, Mr. Michael. It's nice to meet you."
Michael's expression became even more dazed as he stared at the outstretched, flawless hand before him—slender and beautiful. Her voice reached his ears; it wasn't the timid and shaky one he usually heard, but light, polite, graceful, and sweet. He abruptly met her gaze, and she didn't even flinch under his stare.
Eyes are the windows to the soul, they said, and he had always seen in hers the love she held for him—deep and undying. But now, all he could see was a hint of unwillingness and calmness, entwining in those lively grey orbs, throwing his mind into a jumble of messy thoughts as he tried to understand what was going on.
Is this really her?
Or was she switched?
But the voice couldn't be mistaken!
