The money.
The clearance.
13
AMELIE
PLAYLIST: MONSTER – RUELLE
Ihave no idea why I am even here, risking everything by playing my little game.
Well, which is actually a lie. I know exactly why I am here.
El.
She made me do it. The dress is actually hers.
Is it wrong on all levels? Abso-fucking-lutely.
But it brings me joy I haven’t felt in a long time. Almost as if I was born to do just that: Pretend to be someone I am not.
I am good at it. I am fooling everyone here. The mother, the father, and their fellow surgeons are advanced medical professionals.
Have I done my research? Of course. Otherwise, I couldn’t be as persuasive. I am good at fooling them because I analyzed how they tick, what connections they have, and how they operate.
The only person I don’t fool is Jane. The way she looks at me—she knows. She knows there is more.
And instead of finding me, I am pretending to be someone I am not, risking being uncovered.
Suddenly, I feel quite unwell.
“Excuse me for a moment,” I say, and step away from the group to find a restroom.
My surroundings are distorted, blurry, distant—as if viewed through a fisheye lens.
I reach the restroom, which is luckily empty. I attempt to lock the door behind me, but before I can, it is pushed open.
Jane.
“What is going on?” she asks, her eyes x-raying me. She closes the door behind her and leans against it.
I feel trapped.
Trapped in something I shouldn’t have done.
I open my mouth and close it again.
Jane’s expression is hardened, stern, intense.
“Who are you?” she asks in a dangerous voice, asking me the one question I have no answer to.
My hands shake.
Calm down. Deep breaths.
But my body does not calm down.
Who am I?
