Just as I turned a corner a young man suddenly barrelled into me, knocking me back a few steps whilst his papers flew out of his hands. The impact made me feel even angrier than I was already but upon seeing him all flustered trying to pick up all of his things, I sighed before dropping down to the floor to help him with the rest of his things.
“I’m so terribly sorry ma’am” he said as he picked up a bobble head amongst his array of things.
“It’s okay” I say tiredly. “Mistakes happen all the…”
My words trailed off when I looked up and saw none other than Chris, my supposed butler staring back at me.
“Chris?” I ask, stepping away from him cautiously as memories of our first encounter flooded my memory. Me jumping desperately on top of my cases when I thought he was gonna look at my stuff all those months ago. Thinking how cute he was and then feeling depressed because I knew that it would never happen… except he was butler back then; turns out he’s a part of this mess I call my life as well, I think grimly, turning away from him bitterly. How many more people were a part of this façade?
“Hannah-“
“What do you want Chris? If that’s even your real name?” I add bitterly, resorting to my initial mission of finding Justin and getting him to help me. That is all I need right now, Chris has nothing to offer me whatsoever. As if hearing my thoughts he sighed before grabbing my arm and dragging me into an empty room.
“Hannah you have to listen to me” he pleaded urgently, locking the door behind him before he darted around the room with some sort of device.
“Don’t call me Hannah” I say sort of disconnectedly as I marvel at what he was doing. The device in his hand looked like a bull horn, except smaller and a brilliant silver in colour. He whipped out some scissors and began cutting some wires in several areas of the room before placing and small triangular object in the centre of the room.
“Well what do you want me to call you?” he asks, finally acknowledging my statement whilst scurrying around the room. I opened my mouth to answer when I realised that I had no idea what to say. I didn’t want to be called Hannah; she died all those months ago when turned my life upside down. But at the same time, I didn’t want to be called Megan because she is a shell I was simply forced into.
The question actually threw me and the whole time I just stood there awkwardly, it finally dawning on me what he was doing. I’ve seen all of this before; all of the care and precision taken into making sure that no-one could get even a whiff of what was going on in this room. He was cutting the wires of hidden cameras and the small triangular object was a Transmitter Deflector; any hidden bugs in the room now had the inability to transmit any proper signals of what was being said and who it was being said by.
“What do you need to tell me that require you de-bugging the entire room?” I ask him, trying not to let the curiosity known in my voice as well as avoiding his previous question. I just wasn’t ready to become someone else yet again. He looked around cautiously before he let his voice drop to just a whisper.
“My real name is Chris and I did genuinely work with you guys as a Front for about a year. But then Megan disappeared and lo and behold, you arrive” he started off saying, his head whipping back to the door every five seconds.
“Wait. Megan disappeared?” I asked, being welcomed by a massive slap to my mouth as his hand covered it in haste.
“Yes. But long story short I heard what you were saying back there and I think your last condition is absolutely reasonable” he whispered. “And I’m gonna help you do it.”
YOU ARE READING
Stolen Identity
Mystery / Thriller'You'd like to think you are sure of yourself. You know who you are, what you like, your interests and your dislikes. Your identity is more than just what it says it is. It's your token to life and acceptance in some cases. And then that's taken awa...
