Enzo
I couldn’t explain the strange connection I had to this girl named Nina.
She looked almost exactly like Selena; the only differences were that her eyes were brown instead of blue, and she had freckles dotted across her nose and cheeks. She wore her long, dark hair in two braids with bangs at the front, while Selina always had her hair done impeccably by an expensive hair stylist. And Nina dressed in jeans, warm sweaters and beanies, and beat-up Converse sneakers while Selena always dressed in designer clothing that never had any signs of wear.
I had always thought that Selena was my fated mate. And I was happy with that.
And yet, every time I looked at Nina, I couldn’t deny the feeling that washed over me. I felt deeply connected to this girl in some way, and I simply didn’t have
