When Tessa awoke, she was in a hospital room. A couple of nurses bustled past her room in the hallway. Something was beeping. What was it? She looked around and realized that it was a monitor, and it was attached to her. There was an IV in her wrist dripping some clear liquid into her system. She noticed that she was in a hospital gown, which troubled her a bit, since she knew she hadn’t taken her clothes off and she didn’t like the idea of someone else having disrobed her.

She was vaguely aware of a passage of time—as though she’d awakened here before, just as confused as she was right now. How long had she been here? She strained to remember what was happening. She could hear the television in the room next door. Wait. Had she really just heard her name? On TV? She grabbed the remote control that was attached to her bed and turned her own television on.

“…Tessa Livingston, well known internationally for her remarkable violin talent, died today at the tender age of 17.”

The footage showed Tessa’s old Ford Escort being pulled from a river. Then it cut to Detective Foster.

“We received the call early this morning when a jogger noticed her vehicle in the water. Tessa’s body was still inside. There were several open containers of alcohol in the car and we have good reason to believe that Tessa had been driving under the influence. It appears that speed was also a factor.”

Tessa realized she was shaking. “They’ve already killed me.” Did she know about this? Her mind was so fuzzy. Why couldn’t she remember anything?

“Detective,” a news reporter was asking. “Do you believe that perhaps this accident was related to Miss Livington’s testimony against noted crime boss Tony DiNicola last week?”

“No,” the detective answered. “We believe that this tragedy is unrelated, though clearly Miss Livingston was agitated after witnessing the horrific mob crimes of DiNicola. We believe that perhaps this is what pushed her into drinking so heavily, causing this tragic accident.”

“Emily! You’re awake!” the nurse proclaimed as she bustled into the room. “I’m Suzanne and I’m your nurse this evening!” It was then that Suzanne saw the tears streaming down Tessa’s face and looked up at the television. “Oh, I know. It’s so sad. What a terrible accident. It just goes to show what happens when teenagers drink. I blame the parents, really. They should have been more on top of her activities. It’s a shame—such a waste of talent.”

Tessa clenched her jaw furiously. How dare this woman presume to know anything about her or her family! And why didn’t Suzanne see that Tessa was that girl on the television? Oh, she was so confused. And angry. And terrified.

The nurse made some notes in a chart and said, “it looks like you’re doing great. We will probably be able to release you tomorrow morning and then those bandages can come off in a few days. Your Aunt Mary wanted me to notify her when you woke up, so I’ll run and get her for you.”

Emily? Mary? Bandages?

After a moment, a woman—“Aunt Mary,” she supposed—walked in with the nurse. “Could I speak with Emily alone for a few minutes?” The nurse nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her.

“This is not how I’d intended for you to find out,” she said, gesturing towards the television. “I’ve been sitting at your bedside since yesterday, and of course you would pick the moment that I went out for a cup of coffee to wake up!” She smiled. Tessa couldn’t smile back.

“Please,” Tessa said weakly. “Just start at the beginning and tell me everything. I can’t remember anything.”

“Okay. Fair enough. You’ve been through a lot, young lady, and we’ve been keeping you heavily sedated so that the fear and the pain don’t mingle with the necessary medical procedures. It wreaks havoc on the memory, but that’s probably for the best. My name is Marie Thompson, and I’m a US Marshal. Eight days ago, after your testimony in the DiNicola case, you agreed to join the witness protection program. Do you remember that?”

“Yes, I remember.” She was starting to remember more too. She remembered fainting and being taken to the hospital in an ambulance. She remembered the terrifying dreams she’d had. She even remembered Marie. She’d awakened to her before. But it was all so fuzzy.

“We took you to the hospital in Chicago, but then slipped you into another ambulance that took you to Springfield. In Springfield we had your dental work done and then we brought you here to St. Louis to get your breast enhancements and nose job.”

Marie laughed at the shock in Tessa’s face. Slowly Tessa looked down to her chest. “Holy guacamole, I have… curves.”

“Nothing too enormous,” Marie said, still laughing. “We didn’t want to turn you into a Barbie doll. We just wanted to give you a different silhouette.” A different silhouette indeed! She didn’t look like a stick figure anymore!

But Tessa began to cry again. “I won’t even recognize myself when I look in the mirror. I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to anyone. My mom, Whitney, or Stephen. I guess I knew that I wouldn’t be able to. But,” she paused, trying to figure out what exactly she was trying to say. “But I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to myself. The girl in the mirror—I don’t know her.”

Marie reached for Tessa’s hand. “You can start getting to know her right now. Who do you want her to be? This is a fresh start—a chance to be someone completely different from who you’ve been before.”

“What’s my name? Emily what?”

“You’re only Emily while you’re here in St. Louis. Tomorrow morning, when we go to get your hair done and your contacts fitted, you’ll be Jennifer. When we finally arrive in Denver in a few days, when the bandages come off and the transformation is complete, you’ll be Angela Drake.”

Angela Drake. It was like meeting a new person. Strangely, Tessa began to feel like she could do all of this. She was almost excited about creating a whole new persona. Who was Angela? Angela was whoever Tessa decided she was.

“There are a few things to know about your new identity. You aren’t 17 anymore. You’ve just turned 20. You are in your third year in college, instead of your last year of high school, though you’re taking a few months off while you decide what you actually want to major in.” Marie continued to explain that the files had been made to show that Tessa had mostly completed the general education requirements. Tessa would also need to find a job and an apartment near school, but a few initial living expenses would be provided.

“Tessa, I know I’ve overwhelmed you. What you need most right now is to get some rest.” Marie stood up and headed towards the door, but paused before exiting. “The world is open to you now. You can do, learn, and accomplish anything you want. With one exception.”

Tessa closed her eyes and braced herself. She knew what the exception would be and she didn’t know how she could live without it.

“No violin.” Marie was saying the words gently, but they struck through Tessa’s heart like a sword. “In fact, no music at all. You’re too well known in the music world. Your style and technique have long been studied and admired. In order to maintain your anonymity, you have to walk away from it. Do you understand?”

Tessa nodded, as the tears poured out of her closed eyes. This part was the hardest goodbye of them all.

Stephen Wayland paced around his bedroom, staring down at his phone as though it would ring if he willed it hard enough. Where was Tessa, and why wouldn’t she return his calls? He knew something strange was going on with her, but it had hit fever pitch when he’d received her text message. Despite his many attempts to text and call her back, she hadn’t responded. He wondered if he should call the police, but he realized how silly it would sound. It had only been a few hours since he’d heard from her, after all, and the police would have no reason to take any of this seriously. No. He couldn’t call the police about it yet.

Stephen, if something happens to me, it isn’t an accident. xoxo, Tessa.

The text could be a joke, right? No. Stephen shook his head. No joke. Not with Tessa, and not with all the weirdness lately.

He wasn’t in love with Tessa. He was certain that she wasn’t in love with him. They’d been dating for a few months now, but the only reason they were still together was because it was easy and comfortable—and because Prom was fast approaching and it didn’t seem right to break up before that. He cared about her, he admired her amazing talent, and she made him laugh with her quirky approach to life. He found himself playing the role of an older brother—looking out for her, taking responsibility for her. But the sparks were long gone, if they’d even really ever been there.

He heard a noise at his window. “Tessa!” he called out. He unlocked the window and slid the panel open, but she wasn’t there. “Tessa?” he called again, leaning out. The bushes rustled below him. “Who’s there?” he yelled. He held out his phone, hoping that the light from the screen would help him to see better. But with the sudden rush of adrenaline his body was shaking and his hands were sweaty, and the phone immediately slipped out of his hands and landed on the ground.

“Ugh!” What should he do now? He couldn’t go down there. Someone was there and he decided he’d rather not have any crazy encounters—he was a musician, not a prize fighter. He would just have to retrieve his phone in the morning. It didn’t look like Tessa would be calling him back tonight anyway.

He relocked the window and climbed into bed, deciding that the only thing left for him to do was get some sleep. “It was probably all my imagination,” he thought. “And surely Tessa is just fine.” Still, as he lay there in the silence, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

“Listen to me, Tessa. You have to listen. They are going to kill you.” The graying, burly detective sitting across the table from Tessa was gripping his hands into a fist, his face turning red. Tessa marveled that somehow he thought she didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. How could she not? She’d seen first hand what these people were capable of. She’d just testified against them. She knew they were going to kill her!

They were in an interrogation room, though Tessa wasn’t being interrogated. The room was kept dark with only a weak fluorescent light hanging overhead. One wall was covered in a mirror. She’d watched enough TV to know that it was surely a one-way mirror and that people could stand on the other side and see in—watching suspected criminals fidget and squirm, analyzing every word and every movement. For all she knew, someone might be standing there watching her, though she couldn’t imagine why they would bother.

Tessa twirled her long strawberry blonde hair around her finger—something her mother would have reprimanded her for. Her mother was always controlling her. Tessa was certain that it was because her mother’s life had become so messed up that she needed to control something. Tessa was the lucky victim by default. She’d spent years and years “cultivating an image,” as her mother called it, and now she was here and being told to throw it all away.

“I’m seventeen years old, Detective Foster.” She tried to keep her voice calm—this was no place for a breakdown. “I’m booked for concerts across the country for the next six months! I’m a… a prodigy.” She stopped. She actually hated the word “prodigy.” It was one of those buzzwords—the kind that made her want to strangle someone. But she needed this cop to understand who she was! She was important! She was a star! “Do you have any idea how many universities begged me to attend their schools on scholarship? My life is finally what I want my life to be. And you…” She allowed her voice to crack. “You want me to leave it all behind. Become someone else. Let everyone I care about think that I’m dead.”

Detective Foster would have been tempted to roll his eyes at her little diva-style outburst, but he understood that her whole life had just been turned upside down. She had seen things that no one should ever have to see, most especially a kid. “If you stay, you will be dead,” he said softly.

He was right, of course. She absolutely had to go away, and she knew it. But her head was swirling. How could she decide this right now? With all that had happened in the last few days! She was being asked to choose what amounted to a death sentence, or choose to start a new life—one that may or may not turn out to be better than death.

Tessa closed her eyes, but that was the wrong thing to do. Her mind immediately flooded with images of blood, anger, screams, and, finally, the limp body sliding to the floor. She forced her eyes back open and allowed the tears to flow freely now.

She took a deep breath and stood. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Good!” the detective said, slamming his hands on the metal table. He began to speak, but Tessa couldn’t hear him. The room was spinning and suddenly everything went black. She could feel herself falling, but she couldn’t stop, and finally she heard the thud of her own body hitting the ground. And then… silence.