Her name was Anna Katherine Modley. She had light ginger hair cropped close to her head and pale freckled skin. Her eyes were watery blue and her nose was slightly crooked, badly healed after a childhood incident. She liked sushi and punk music and her favorite sweater was covered in safety pins. She was dating a man named Andre Kingston, and she didn’t know that he was an arms dealer about to make a deal with a terrorist group in Glaston.
Her name was Leisaim Ferron, and she had been compiling information on Andre Kingston for the past three months in order to put him behind bars. Leisaim was not Anna, although she pretended to be. Anna was as real as the birth certificate that was forged for her. But it was Anna who stood at the large bay window in the ridiculously expensive apartment, not Leisaim, because Leisaim stopped existing when Anna came into being.
“Anna, what are you doing?” She looked to the bed and saw that Andre had woken up. He was staring at her with a sleepy expression, blond hair falling into his eyes. He was attractive, almost worthy of being a model, and if Leisaim allowed herself to feel anything then she might have found him sexually appealing.
Anna thought he was absolutely delicious, and it was her who smiled at him from the window. “Couldn’t sleep, just a l’il restless.” As she spoke, she turned around and let the moonlight wash over her. She knew it made her look more attractive, and her smile grew when Andre sat up and patted the bed.
“Well, come to bed, and we’ll see what we can do about that…” Anna walked towards the bed and let the blanket wrapped around her fall to the floor.
Anna cried the next week when Andre was shot by a Council sniper.
Leisaim didn’t feel a thing.
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