Alternative

| Chapter Ten

"Elizabeth Kim." Joe's voice sounds distant. The noise from his laptop feels more real, closer than he does. But he's right beside me, sitting with me in my kitchen.

He was the first person I called once I got back home.

"Elizabeth... Kim," he keeps repeating her name as though it helps him. When I glance at him, I see his fingers quickly type away at his laptop. I can only assume he's trying to dig dirt on our donor.

Yet, I can't keep my attention on him. I turn my head, beer in my hand. When I lift it to drink, I look ahead. At her.

Em.

For the first time in a long time, Emery is up, walking around the house as though she remembers it. I may have called Joe the moment I sat my bag on the table, but Em greeted me at the door first. Her warm hug was everything I needed, the kiss on the cheek was extra, but I couldn't say no to it. I needed that, too. When Joe rushed over, she offered us drinks, snacks, and though I took a bottle, she added dinner to her nighttime offer.

"Em," I whisper, low enough so no one can hear me.

She's cooking. I haven't seen her cook in so long. I can't help but watch her as she hums and cuts vegetables. She looks so happy. Peaceful.

"I don't think there's anything weird about her," Joe says, tapping his enter key loud enough to make me turn my head. "Sure, her profession is new and all, but I can't see anything wrong in her past."

Slowly, I nod. "Is that what you were looking up right now?"

"Mhm." Joe lifts a brow. "She's squeaky clean, Ray."

"Ahuh. To be squeaky clean in this day and age isn't common." I click my tongue against my teeth as I glance down at his laptop. There were files pulled up on his screen, each with Elizabeth's face. I can see her social security number, her date of birth, and every document registered with the government.

Still, something was off. I knew it. "Dig deeper," I tell him. "Just in case."

"Ray." Joe presses his hands on both sides of the keyboard. "She's weird yeah, but—"

"She's more than weird," I speak into my beer bottle, my voice echoing slightly. "You didn't see her tonight."

"So?" Joe blinks and waves one hand beside his head, dismissing what I've said. "There was a hiccup, Ray. Anyone can freak out with a glitch like that."

A glitch. A hiccup.

I nearly slam my bottle of beer against the table as I glare at him. How can he be so unbothered? Naive, even? I told him, from the second I called him, that something was wrong. Yes, there was a glitch in the memory recording, but it didn't seem accidental. People who experience a hiccup in the red category will be disoriented, lost, and confused.

But Elizabeth was none of those things. She wanted to continue. She wanted me to see her thoughts, her memories.

She wanted to create new ones. For me.

"Joe, when I first met her, she was all pink, right?"

With wide eyes, he nods. "Yeah?"

"But the past two nights, she's been all," I motion around myself, at my clothes, "dressed in tight shit, sexy shit."

Joe nods again, then laughs. "Maybe she likes you, Ray. Think of that?"

I sigh and look back at my beer. It's half-empty. Under the kitchen light, it starts to sweat. "As much as I need her memories, Joe, I don't know if it's worth it." Glancing at him, I sigh. "After tonight, I have this weird sick feeling in my stomach."