"Where did he go? Was it... was it me? Did I do something wrong?" Her voice was a mixture of panic and disbelief, the smooth confidence she always carried now cracking. "I didn't touch anything, I swear! Or was it something I said?"
The Draven standing in front of her, calm and collected, didn't flinch. He looked at her with those sharp, unreadable eyes that always seemed to be dissecting everything in his line of sight. But this wasn't the real Draven. She knew that now. He was a clone, but he felt so real, so complete in every way that the difference barely registered to most.