Dylan sat next to me, his hand resting on the seat between us, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to touch me but was unsure whether to do so.
I kept my gaze fixed out of the window, watching the city lights blur into a haze of color. It almost felt like I was in a dream. But it wasn’t a dream, it was my life now. Or at least, a life I had to pretend was mine.
I wanted to ask Dylan a thousand questions. I wanted to scream, to demand answers. What was he really asking of me? Why was he so insistent that I become Emily, that I wear her life like a second skin? But every time I opened my mouth, the words felt too heavy to speak.
Instead, I turned to him, just enough to catch his profile in the dim light of the car. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed in a way that suggested he was lost
