“To the woman who saw my heart before my face.”
Clara looked up.
“Don Baste…”
He slowly rolled his wheelchair toward the mirror.
“I think you deserve the truth.”
Her heart began racing.
“What truth?”
He reached behind his neck.
And his trembling fingers touched something she had never noticed before.
A hidden zipper.
Clara froze.
“What… is that?”
Don Baste looked at her.
“The reason the world thinks they know me.”
Slowly…
Very slowly…
He pulled the zipper down.
Clara stepped backward.
Her hand covered her mouth.
