I consider this, tearing off another piece of bread. “I just have this feeling it’s going to come to an end. That I can’t simply choose this life because I like it more. Maybe I’ve seen too many movies, but it never works like that. Isn’t that the point of every story about a genie? Every morality tale? Like … the old love potion thing. You can make someone fall in love with you but it won’t be real. This isn’t real.”

“I can assure you, this is real. It’s my life, you know.”

It’s the first time I feel like I’ve come up against the edge of Kiera’s patience. I don’t blame her.

She’s right. This is real. It feels like it anyway. As solid and firm as the reality I’m used to. More so, in some ways.

I’ve always had a vivid imagination. How far can that take a person?

“I’m sorry,” I say to Kiera. “It’s confusing. I don’t know how to frame it. I keep having this terrible feeling that I’m going to wake up one day in my other life. Find I’ve been swept off like Dorothy, and all of you will be gone. Or maybe Oz is real, and Kansas is the dream. Something isn’t reality, and I don’t know which it is anymore.”

She looks a little relieved, like my delusion is starting to loosen. Maybe it is. I don’t know.

“It’s okay. I know it’s a mess.”

I’m afraid to know what the truth is. I’m actually hoping I made up an entire life for myself, and that can’t be good for a person.

Maybe Kiera’s right. Maybe I should trust it.

The little voice in my head makes a doubtful sound and I wish I could kick myself under the table.

“Can I ask you a question?” she says, scooting back from the table and crossing her arms.

“Of course.”

“Why do you hate Theo so bloody much? You’ve never told me, but I’ve always thought there’s more to the story than you’re letting on.”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean.”

Fittingly, the song inside changes to “Boy and Girl” by Unloved.