The last time I saw my sister was the day before she vanished from my life. I’ve spent the last five years searching for her, clinging to the hope that one day I will find out what happened to her, but every lead has ended up at a dead end.
He took me because he thinks I’m Her.
My instinct is to run. I want to fight my way out of there, but I can’t. This man is my only connection to my sister. I’ll do whatever it takes to uncover the truth. Even if it means falling right into the arms of a psychopath.
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Before my eyes even open, I know he’s watching me. I can feel the weight of his stare. My heart plummets as any chance of this being a dream disappears. Sure enough, as I roll over he comes into view, sitting in the same spot he was before. I sit up, both embarrassed and curious at his interest in watching me sleep.
“Thought you might be hungry,” he says, tossing a neatly folded brown package on the bed. “It’s just a sandwich,” he adds, noting my dubious expression.
As much as I want to throw it back in his face, my stomach betrays me with a loud rumble. My face heats as I busy myself with opening the thin layer of paper.
The bread is fresher than I expect and the aroma of ham fills the air. I eat without coming up for air, partly due to being so damn hungry and also because I have no idea when my next meal will be coming.
“Thanks,” I mutter, screwing the wrapper up into a tight ball.
He hesitates and sits down next to me. My heart races at his proximity and I shuffle over a few inches. He chuckles and rubs his jaw.
“You’re really taking this whole wide-eyed innocent act too far,” he comments.
My mouth gapes. I have no idea how to respond to that. When he reaches for my hand, I jump, and try to yank my arm away. His fingers close around my wrist as he pulls me closer to him. I whimper. He’s so close I can feel his warm breath on my neck.
“I’m sorry if I scared you earlier,” he says, his eyes penetrating mine. I want to look away, but I can’t. “I’m just…you frustrate me sometimes. I think you’re finally getting it and then you do something stupid like this.”
“I don’t know who you are,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Please, let me go. I wont tell anyone—”
“For fucks sake, Anna, will you quit this bullshit,” he growls, pulling me to my feet. He steps backward, pushing his body against mine, trapping me against the wall. Terrified, I try and push him back, but he’s too strong. His six foot and well stacked frame easily overpowers me. Suddenly, my blood runs cold. I gasp, struggling to breathe as his words repeat in my head. One word. Anna. He called me Anna.
Oh god, oh god, oh god. It all makes sense now.
He thinks I’m her.
M.C. Jackson released her debut novel, Mistaken Identity, in May 2017. When not writing, M.C. enjoys reading everything she can get her hands on, spending time with friends and family, and cooking up crazy meals after binge watching Masterchef.