Everything makes sense. I might have gone to school and then stayed on after, here, in Avalon. Providing I figured out how to stay in another country, which I’ve watched enough of 90 Day Fiancé to know is very difficult. But if I’d stayed here, then I wouldn’t have been at that party with Aimee, we wouldn’t have fought, and so … she’d still be alive. If she was alive, I wouldn’t have gone to LA, or at least not in the same way, and I wouldn’t be on Brilliance. I wouldn’t be on a diet for robots who don’t need nutrients, I would probably not have succumbed to the pressure—or at least not been able to afford—to get any work done on my face. So, yeah, I’d be a normal weight and have my own nose.

I’m on the road not taken!

I feel a little hysterical.

God, I mean, what if this is the real road? What if the other life I know is the hallucination?

I need my phone. Or … the phone that is apparently mine. I have to see if Aimee is in there, and if she is, I have to call her.

I’m about to open the phone to look for her name when I’m interrupted by a knock at the door, sending Maureen into a frenzy of barking as she leaps off the couch and runs to the door.

I pause, not wanting to put another second between me and Aimee, but someone here likely means more answers. It could even be Aimee.

I almost fall on my face scrambling over to the door with that thought.

I pull open the heavy wooden door, and Kiera comes in along with a gust of cool sunny air.

I try not to be disappointed.

“Good morning,” she says, then, “Oh, hello, Maureen. Yes, I know, I know, I love you too.”

I gently pull the dog back by her collar. “Come here, come, come on. Good girl.”

I grew up with dogs, and I have my own, so it feels like second nature to handle Maureen, even though I don’t know her.

“Don’t be mad at me,” Kiera says. “I brought you a chai. One pump of vanilla with full fat milk. Like you like it. Cillian texted me you were a little off last night after I left, thought you might need a little extra care. You okay?”

“Uh—yeah, I’m good.”

“Good. Here you go.” She hands over a cup. “So. I’m a good friend, a smart friend. I’m deserving of your friendship. Even though I can’t stop sleepin’ with that useless scut.”