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Chapter 5

But enough of admiring the plumbing—Beau’s own plumbing reminded him urgently. He hurried to the toilet and sighed as he relieved himself, one hand braced on the wall above him.

Finished, he headed over to the sink to wash his hands and here is where he finally had an encounter, face-to-face, with himself.

Here was a mirror.

The silver glass, bordered with a scalloped gilt frame, threw back a surprising—and horrifying—image. Yes, all the usual parts were in place and Beau recognized himself—the shock of amber hair, wavy, that often fell fetchingly or annoyingly, depending on his mood, over his right eye. His eyes were the same, a slight almond shape, filled with hazel irises. His cheekbones, chin, and nose remained where they always had.

But there, the difference between what Beau saw in the mirror before and what he saw right now, became apparent.