I stared into the mirror above the dresser, at my less-than-like-me new haircut, to go with my so-not-me dye job. If my eyes weren’t their normal bright blue, I would seriously question the reflection as being me.
But it was me, or rather Lacey.
So much had gone on the last few months that my entire twenty-eight years leading up to now seemed like an entire lifetime ago.
Paisley Anne Warren lived a lifetime ago.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the mirror, from the changes I’d endured that morphed me into Lacey Collins. But I could hear the life going on in the motel room. The TV spouting some news about something terrible, as they always seemed to do. There was the buzzing of the phone against the wood tabletop—an oddity since Jason’s death. The spray of the shower, and then the sque
