“I am?” Funny, I think I’d know that. Dad and I went to church on Easter and Christmas because everybody else did, but I never thought of myself as particularly religious.

“You were baptized,” Mom states.

“Okay.”

“I have pictures.” She flips through my baby book again.

“I believe you.” It doesn’t matter that water was dumped on my head when I was a baby. I’m not a religious person. And let’s be real: with all the shit that’s been happening in my life, I really doubt the existence of some greater good in the universe.

Craig jumps in, sensing an argument brewing. “Hey, maybe tomorrow we can head to the beach, although it’s a little chilly. I think it’s in the midseventies.”

A laugh escapes my throat. “Midseventies is cold?”

“Well, not compared to where we just came from. But the water will be cold. Our pool is heated, though, so if it’s swimming you desire, we will make it happen.”

Their house has a pool? Although looking out the window up here makes me think everybody in Florida has one. It’s your house now, I try to remind myself, but it feels false. It’s like I’m going to live somebody else’s life. But I guess I am. This is Amanda McMullen’s life.

Ally Smith is slowly being erased. She was the illusion. That life was a fabrication. This is the one that I was meant to have. Maybe someday it will even feel like mine.

“So what would you like to do this weekend?” Craig asks.

I’m grateful he seems to want me to have some sort of say in my new life.

“Anything you want!” he offers.

If I could do anything, I’d stay on this plane and fly right back to Wisconsin.

I flash back to my old life. What would I be doing this weekend? Hanging out with Marian. Going on a date with Neil.

I can’t do any of that stuff. But there is one thing I can do.

“I’d like to watch the Packers game on Sunday. We’re playing the Bears, and I don’t want to miss it.”

Craig shakes his head as he laughs. “We’ve got to get you into the Buccaneers. We have season tickets. Have you ever been to an NFL game? Nothing beats seeing it live.”

I nod. “Yeah, my dad and I went to Lambeau last year for a preseason game.” I pretend to not notice Paula bristle when I mention him.