Chapter 5

Every muscle in my body tenses and I stumble back a few steps until I feel the solid wood of the door against my back. White hot panic floods my veins. My eyes dart around the room, frantically looking around for someone to help me. I only find Reed, the woman who brought me here, and another man who looks to be in his late 50s or early 60s. He is heavyset and balding, and with the sweat beading on his forehead, he looks like he wants to be here about as much as I do. He turns towards me, and his jaw goes slack as his stare settles onto me.

“Oh my god.” His whisper is so soft I can only just hear him, although he can’t be more than six feet away from me.

“Agreed,” Reed bites out. “Explain, Robert.”

“Sir, I swear. I did her background check myself. We still have men on Clarisse. It can’t be her.”

“And when was the last time anyone actually laid eyes on her?”

“Two days ago.” Robert is sweating even more profusely now. “But I did Ms. Johannsen’s background check myself,” he emphasizes again, “I spoke to her former coworkers. They not only confirmed working with her, but they gave her glowing recommendations. She has a fingerprint clearance card! She cannot be her.”

My mind is spinning.* Do they think I am someone else? What the hell is going on here?*

“What the hell is going on here?” The words that I intended to keep in my mind are out of my mouth before I can stop myself, and I hate how small and shaky my voice sounds. I immediately regret saying anything, as the full weight of everyone’s attention shifts to me. If it was tense in the room before, it is nothing compared to now.

The well-dressed woman who led me here breaks the long silence.

“Honestly, Caleb, I think she deserves an explanation,” she says to Reed. Caleb is his first name, then. This woman must have balls of steel, because not only is she on a first name basis with my attempted killer, she meets the glare that Reed sends her way without flinching, and holds his stare. Her courage must rub off on Robert, because he clears his throat before saying, “Bea is right, Sir. Until we fully understand the situation here, I think we should operate under the assumption that Ms. Johannsen is who she claims to be. There are things you can fake– but an entire work history? A nursing degree? Fingerprints? Not to mention the-”

“Enough!” Reed cuts him off. He is quiet for a long moment, then lets out a long breath. “Though difficult, none of those things is impossible to fake when you have Clarisse’s… talents,” he infuses the last word with more disdain than I have ever heard anyone else manage. “Until we can confirm whether that witch is where she is supposed to be,” he continues, “we need to act with caution.”

Something snaps in me then, and my fear, anger, and indignation boil over all at once. My voice is no longer small and shaky, but comes out sharp and filled with incredulity as I growl, “Act with caution? Caution? You tried to fucking kill me! You attacked me when my back was turned like a coward. And you call that ‘acting with caution?’ You are lucky that I haven’t called the police yet!”

Reed’s eyebrows raise the slightest bit, as though he is surprised by my outburst. Like he is genuinely shocked that I might be pissed that he wrapped his hands around my throat and tried to end my life. The expression is short lived, though, and his aloof expression is back in place before he says, “You could call the police, but it would be a waste of your time. They work for me.”

I roll his words over in my mind, trying to make sense of them.

“The… The police… Work for you? What are you? Mafia or something?”

“Or something,” Reed answers vaguely, not bothering to look up from the computer he is now typing on. He quickly finds whatever he was looking for, and rotates his computer monitor to face me. He leans back in his high-back leather chair, gesturing at the screen, apparently wanting me to take a look.

I hesitate, glancing toward the well-dressed woman, whom Robert called Bea. I probably shouldn’t trust her, considering she works for Reed– along with the police, apparently– but I get the impression that she means me no harm. She gives me a gentle, reassuring smile and a small nod. Taking her lead, I take a few steps closer to the screen. Despite the massive desk between us, I still make sure to stay well out of arm’s reach of Reed. I lean down slightly to get a better view of the monitor, where I see a candid picture of a woman. Of… me? But, not me. This woman is in front of some supermarket-type store, but it is one I have never been to in my life. Though the photo is a bit grainy, as if taken from a distance, I can see that she is nearly identical to me. The same long, strawberry blonde hair, the same heart-shaped face, awkwardly-large eyes, down to the petite, curveless frame. The woman looks like me. But I am positive that I am not the person in the photograph.

“Who-? How-? Where-?” I cannot even decide what question to ask.

Bea must take pity on me, because she speaks up.

“That is Clarisse. She has caused our people a lot of pain and trouble in the past, and would certainly not hesitate to do so again. I’m sure I do not need to explain why some of us,” she cuts a look at Reed, “Might have assumed that you– she– might have come back to do just that.”

“Some of us,” Reed interjects, his voice hard, “Are still assuming that, and will continue to assume so until it is proven otherwise. Robert, how long until we can get eyes on Clarisse and confirm whether she is where she should be?”

“A week, at the longest, Sir,” Robert tells him, dabbing at his forehead with an actual handkerchief. I didn’t know people actually used those outside of books or movies.

“You will be watched closely until then.” Reed finally deigns to give me his full attention. “You are not to leave town. You will work your scheduled shifts as expected. If you step one toe out of line, I swear to you I will finish what I started this morning.”

He means it, too. Psychopath.

He waves a hand dismissively, and Bea opens the door and begins to guide me out of the room. Before the door swings shut behind me, I hear Reed’s voice call out from behind his desk-

“Oh, and Ms. Johannsen? You are free to leave for the day. I’ll be sure you are paid for the full day.”

Well, that was unexpected.