“You’re telling me you don’t know Maureen.”

“I can’t even fathom why I or anyone else would name a dog Maureen.”

“He named her after the actress didn’t he? Maureen O’Hara? The Parent Trap? I thought it was your idea.”

“He?”

She squints. “Cillian.”

“Ah, right. He wants me to bring her back apparently.”

She shakes her head. “You’re telling me you don’t know the dog that you’ve literally kidnapped every other night since she was a puppy?”

I look at Maureen, who is now using her toy as a pillow.

“She seems very sweet, but I don’t know her,” I say.

“Was it the breakup? Did it cause you to go daft? I mean, you two have broken up a hundred times, and you’ve never forgotten your entire life. Something did seem different about this one, though. I feel like you aren’t telling me something about it.”

A plunge of reasonless guilt goes through me and I shake my head. “I don’t know. Cillian seems nice too.”

She gives me a challenging look. “Cillian seems nice? I’m starting to feel a bit gaslit.”

“Wait—breakup? Are you telling me I was with that guy?”

She looks puzzled. “You don’t remember being with Cillian? For years on end? Off and on, over and over?”

I shake my head slowly. “No.”

“You don’t remember breaking up with him yesterday?”

“Yesterday? Oh my God, no wonder he seemed so annoyed with me being there.”

The pieces of this new image start to fall into place. I was with Cillian. Or … some version of me was.

“To be fair, he’s always a bit like that.” She laughs, but then remembers what I’m telling her and looks seriously at me. “You’re telling me you really don’t remember any of this? You really believe you have a different life?”

“I swear on everything. You don’t have to believe me. I mean, I wouldn’t believe myself right now, if I hadn’t looked in the mirror and seen”—I gesture at my face—“all this.”

“What about”—she gestures at my face too—“all this?”

“In my life, my real life, I weigh like twenty pounds less and I’ve had some work done. Not a lot. But enough that I can say with one hundred percent certainty that this is not the face I had when I woke up yesterday.”

She laughs. “In my real life, I too am about twenty pounds thinner.” She then shakes her fists at the heavens. “God, won’t you wake me up from this nightmare?”

“I—ugh. I need to prove this to you.” I rack my brain. “Okay, okay, um … okay! I can tell you everything on the menu of this amazing Thai place in Silver Lake. There are actually several locations, but—okay, this restaurant called Night + Market. Google it.”