Chapter 2

I sat on the cold, hard bench of the cell, staring blankly at the wall. I didn’t know how long I’d been there. Days, maybe? I couldn’t tell anymore. My thoughts were a jumble of confusion, disbelief, and heartbreak.

How had my life turned out like this?

How had Max, the man I loved with every fiber of my being, become a stranger to me? The man who had promised to protect me, to cherish me, had thrown me into this cell like I was nothing.

The image of his face, twisted in anger when he slapped me, burned in my memory. He had looked at me like I was a criminal, like he didn’t recognize me. No matter how much I had pleaded, no matter how much I cried and told him I didn’t do it, he refused to believe me. They all did—Delores, his mother, who had slapped me and called me a thief, and Anya, his sister, who had stood by, arms crossed, glaring at me like I was filth beneath her feet.

I closed my eyes, trying to block it out, but it was all there—the accusations, the shouting, and then the police. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to explain myself before they took me away, locking me up like a common criminal. Max had watched the entire time, his arms crossed, his face hard, as if he’d already condemned me.

How could he?

A part of me still couldn’t believe it, couldn’t accept that the man I loved would betray me like this. I had no idea who could’ve set me up, but I knew it wasn’t me. I hadn’t stolen anything, let alone Delores’s precious jewelry.

How could they believe something so awful?

I heard footsteps, and I snapped out of my daze. A warden approached the bars, her keys jingling as she unlocked the door.

“You’ve got a visitor,” she said.

I blinked, my heart skipping a beat. Max? Was he finally coming to get me out of here? Maybe he’d realized his mistake, maybe he was here to apologize, to take me home. My heart leaped with hope as I stood up and followed the warden down the narrow hall.

But when I entered the small visiting room, the hope that had swelled in my chest faded instantly. Sitting across the table was a man I’d never seen before. He was wearing a suit, but there was something off about him, something in the way he looked at me—too intense, like he knew something I didn’t.

“Who are you?” I asked, feeling wary as I sat down.

The man leaned back in his chair, his eyes studying me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

“My name’s Detective Marcus,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

I frowned, feeling confused. Who the hell was he? Why had he been looking for me?

“Looking for me? I don’t know you.”

He nodded slowly, as if he expected that answer. “No, I don’t suppose you do. But I know you. Or at least, I thought I knew what happened to you.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded.

My patience was already running thin. My nerves were shot after everything that had happened, and I didn’t have the energy for riddles. I wasn’t in the mood for games.

The detective watched me closely, leaning forward. “What’s your real name?”

I blinked, thrown by the question. “What? My name is Tamara.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Tamara what?”

“Tamara Evans. What does that have to do with anything?”

The detective’s mouth quirked into a strange smile, like he knew something I didn’t.

“Evans… right.” He shook his head slowly. “You don’t remember anything, do you?”

“Remember what?” I snapped, feeling frustrated. “What are you even talking about?”

Before I could react, the man leaned forward suddenly and plucked a strand of hair from my head. I yelped, jerking back in surprise. “What the hell are you doing?”

He ignored my outburst, carefully placing the strand of hair into a small plastic bag.

“Just checking something,” he said dryly, standing up.

“Wait, where are you going?” I demanded, but he didn’t answer.

He gave me one last strange look before turning and leaving the room, leaving me sitting there, completely confused.

I was left alone, my mouth open. Who was that man? What did he want? And what the hell did he mean by ‘checking something’?

Everything happened so fast. Few days later, the warden came again, telling me I had visitors. I hesitated, wondering if it would be the detective again. I almost didn’t want to go, but curiosity—and a flicker of hope—drove me forward. Maybe it was Max this time. Maybe he was finally here to fix everything. But when I stepped into the visiting room, my breath caught in my throat.

Sitting across from me were an older man and woman, both dressed in expensive, luxurious clothes. I recognized them immediately. Everyone in the country knew who they were. Daniela and Kenneth Johnson. The wealthiest couple in the city, maybe even the country. I’d seen their faces on TV, in magazines, on blogs. But what were they doing here? Why were they visiting me?

I glanced behind me, wondering if this was some mistake. But the moment our eyes met, something strange happened. They both froze, staring at me like they’d seen a ghost. Daniela raised her hand to her mouth. Instantly, her eyes filled with tears.

“Tammie?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

I frowned, confusion swirling in my mind.

“No,” I said slowly, shaking my head. “My name is Tamara.”

But before I could say anything else, the woman rushed forward, throwing her arms around me in a tight embrace. “Oh my God, Tammie! It’s really you!”

I stood there, stiff and confused, as the woman sobbed against my shoulder. “What… what are you talking about?”

The man, Kenneth, stood up slowly. His eyes were filled with unshed tears as he watched us.

“We thought you were dead,” he said. “We thought we lost you in that accident all those years ago. You’re our daughter.”

I pulled away from the woman, Daniela, shaking my head.

“I think you have the wrong person,” I said, my voice shaky. “I’m not your daughter. My name is Tamara Evans.”

But Daniela shook her head, her tears falling freely. “No, no… you’re our daughter. Tammie Johnson. You don’t remember because of the accident.”

“Accident?” I repeated, completely lost.

Kenneth stepped closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. “You were in a terrible car accident. We thought you had died. The body they found in the wreck was burned beyond recognition, but it was wearing your favorite necklace. We thought it was you, but it wasn’t.”

I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around their words. “This can’t be right. My husband, Max, he—”

Daniela gasped. “husband? You’re married?”

“Yes,” I said. “Max Evans.”

The couple exchanged a glance, and I could see the confusion on their faces.

“We need to explain everything,” Daniela said gently. “But first, we need you to understand that we’re your real family. We did a DNA test… the hair the detective pulled from you. It matched.”

My legs felt weak, and the room spun. That’s why the detective pulled a lock of my hair?

DNA test? None of this made sense. How could I be someone else?

Their voices faded into the background of my mind. It was all too much to process. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

I started to ask more questions, but the words didn’t come. My vision blurred, and before I could process anything, the world went black.