Seventy-three

“I'm telling you, Tristan, it's that bad.”

She said to Tristan over Facetime.

He had called her by eight pm New Zealand Standard Time and she was telling him how things were with Zoe.

She couldn't bring herself to sleep on the mattress, so, after tucking Zoe in and making sure she was asleep, she went to the living room and lay on the couch instead.

“And get this, turns out she's been living here using my name.”

“Are you serious?” He asked, the shock on his face mirroring hers.

“I am. Her neighbour called me Angela, and I found these fake documents and ID's inside the kitchen closet. It all had my name. None of it has her name. It's creepy.”

“So, her daughter doesn't know her real name either?”

“She doesn't. Apparently, she's been living a lie for seven years. As crazy as it is, it did give me an idea.”

She replied with a faraway look in her eyes.

“What idea?” Tristan asked with raised eyebrows.

She smiled at him as she answered, “You know how she told me not to ever let her daught