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“You’re not Mallory, you’re Alyssa.”

Gage knew he was right. An overwhelming relief washed over him.

“And you know this—how?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. Earlier you asked me if I believed in God, and I do. So does Alyssa. But Mallory’s not a churchgoer. Aly…you talked about it.”

Slowly she shook her head. “I think you’re just saying this to make yourself feel better.”

“Feel better about what?” he demanded.

“About how close we came to kissing back there on the sidewalk.”

He remembered that moment, when their faces had been close. Too close. “Nothing happened,” he denied swiftly. “What’s wrong with you? I thought you’d be glad to know your true identity.”

“But I don’t know my true identity, do I?” she countered. “Telling me I’m Alyssa or Mallory doesn’t really change anything. I’m not anyone until I can remember for myself.”

He didn’t want to admit she was right. While he might be convinced she really was Alyssa, the truth didn’t change anything.

She still couldn’t remember. Not her identity and not anything related to the danger they were in.

Identity Crisis

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