MERIDAFinally, I saw him waving from across the small cafe.I gave a small nod and with slow, shaky steps, I walked towards him.I sank into the booth across from Bartlett, my heart pounding like a drumbeat out of rhythm. The investigator's face was hidden behind dark sunglasses, which somehow only made him look more ominous.My best kept pounding and I could hardly breathe. I wonder where all this will lead to .If he knew I was Merida and not Tasha , or —I really didn't know what to think any more, I tried to hide my shaky hands on my laps.If I hadn’t known better, I’d think he was playing at being some shady secret agent. I reached for the menu—not that I planned to eat, but I needed something to do with my hands. They felt too empty, too exposed, as if he might read everything I was hiding right off my fingertips.“You’re late, Tasha,” Bartlett said, barely glancing up.I forced a small smile, my mind racing to keep up with the persona I was trying so hard to embody. Tasha. L
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