The next morning, Mira found herself late again.And, as always, it wasn’t her fault entirely. Some invisible force had kept her tossing and turning all night, replaying a man’s words and a lifetime of déjà vu.She dashed out of her apartment, umbrella in one hand, coffee in the other, and barely noticed she had splashed a puddle all over a pedestrian’s expensive shoes.“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” a deep voice barked.Mira looked up of course, it was Aarav Vale.Standing there like he had been waiting for her to mess up. Which, apparently, he had. Again.She froze. Coffee in hand, soaked