“Cheers to finally being free,” I said, raising my glass towards Susie. From her seat on the opposite side of the table, she raised her glass in response. We clinked our cups together and each took a sip of the warm, dark liquid within. The rich coffee was a perfect addition to the bright Italian morning.

“May the asshole rot in hell,” Susie replied. I booked our trip to Florence the same day she called to tell me that her husband had filed for divorce. She was in tears; he was unrepentantly sleeping with several other women. Florence was somewhere she always wanted to visit, and now that her ex-husband would never take her, I stepped in as best friend to fulfil that dream. After arriving late last night, we decided a nice cafe would be the ideal place to start our getaway.

“You’re not going to believe it,” Susie whispered to me, “but there’s someone a few tables over that looks just like your ex.” I discreetly glanced in the direction she indicated and immediately spotted the person she was talking about. Even through the crowded cafe, the resemblance was noticeable. Her back was turned to me, but she wore her long blonde hair in the same style as Naomi had in high school. I had spent months staring at the back of her head in our English class before getting the courage to ask her out, so I was well familiar with this view. A flock of pigeons took off across the plaza and she turned her head to watch. Her profile confirmed our suspicions- this woman looked exactly like Naomi.

“She looks exactly like Naomi,” I whispered in return. “There’s no way it can be her though.” Susie gave me a somber look. I was sure she remembered Naomi’s disappearance as well as I did.

Almost seven years ago, our high school friend group had gone out to celebrate Naomi’s 18th birthday. The night progressed like any other social outing and ended with the two of us making out in the backseat of my car. We wanted to go back to one of our homes, but her parents didn’t approve of her relationship and I wasn’t yet out to my parents. I dropped her off at her house, watched her walk inside, and drove home, blissfully happy. The next morning, she didn’t show up at school. Her parents accused me of being responsible for her absence and even had the police question me after they filed a missing person report. I told the investigators everything I knew about that night, but it never seemed like they believed me.

“But what if it is?” Susie asked. “The police never figured out what happened to her.” They had looked for months on end. Search party after search party went out into the woods, fields, and rivers around our small town. Her car was eventually found on the side of a back road with her cell phone and wallet still inside. The police said there was no sign of foul play, and the investigation dwindled from there. So what was she doing here now, so far from when and where she was last seen?

“Should I talk to her?” I asked tentatively. If it was her, I wanted to know why she had left so abruptly and without saying anything to me. If it was her though, could I handle living through that rejection and heartbreak again? I had moved on since then, but speaking to her would reopen those old wounds. Susie was here with me and could help me through the pain, but this trip was supposed to be about celebrating her divorce, not her comforting me in my renewed despondency. She had also already supported me during that once before- she shouldn’t have to do it again.

Susie shrugged and gestured back towards Naomi. “Act fast if you’re going to,” she said. I turned my head to see Naomi gathering her belongings and knew I was going to chicken out. I couldn’t handle her spurning me again, and I didn’t want to look like a fool if it wasn’t her. She stood up from her table and walked along the edge of the outdoor cafe.

“Mi scusi,” she said, accidentally bumping her demure purse against the back of an older gentleman sitting by himself. I recognized her voice immediately. I had spent what felt like ages listening to her speak, and it was an undeniable match. That woman was definitely Naomi. A tube of lipstick slipped from her purse, and the man bent to retrieve it for her. As he did so, I watched her tip a small vial of powder into his coffee.

“Nessun problema,” the man replied, handling the lipstick back to Naomi. She smiled and continued on her way with graceful speed. The gentleman returned to his coffee and took a long sip as he watched the gentle sway of her hips. Naomi turned a corner, and the man returned his gaze to his newspaper.

“Did you see that?” Susie asked, drawing my attention back.

“She just put something in that guy’s coffee.” I answered, meeting Susie’s fearful gaze with my own. I was about to ask her if we should do something about it when we were interrupted by a sudden, loud coughing fit. Susie’s face turned deathly pale and I swiveled back around to see the man Naomi had bumped doubled over on the ground, struggling to breathe. A waiter rushed over and attempted to help the gentleman, but the man had stopped breathing by the time she arrived. I looked back at Susie, eyes wide.

“What the hell just happened?”