Liz’s fingers trembled as she maneuvered the trackpad on Lauren’s laptop. The short obituary was accompanied by a picture of a stuffed lamb. She chose to read it aloud, hoping it would help her gain distance from the words:
“Elizabeth Marie Benjamin was born on Tuesday, March 6, 1990, at 3:46 a.m. at Roper St. Francis. She weighed 6 pounds, 4 ounces and was 20 inches long.
"Her father was blessed with nearly an hour in her company before she went on to be with the Lord. Her mother passed from complications in childbirth earlier that morning. If anyone would like to donate in Elizabeth’s honor, contributions can be sent to… I can’t do this.” Liz’s whole body shook with a wave of tears. She cried for her mother. She cried for herself. She cried for all the years they’d missed.
“It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” Dorian pulled her to his chest and, surprisingly, she let him.
“It didn’t even give my parents’ names. The article didn’t say who they were.”
“Maybe it was an oversight,” Lauren said.
“Or intentionally omitted.” Shane’s deep voice had lost its strength. Liz’s whole body had. She wasn’t even supposed to be alive.
“Was that baby me?” Liz murmured into Dorian’s shirt. “Was my death faked? Or…?” She cried out again. “I don’t even know what questions to ask anymore.”
“And I’m all out of answers to give,” Dorian said, stroking her hair, tucking it behind her ears. “I’m going to help you find them, though.”
“I’m calling Ben,” Shane said, struggling to stand with the help of his wife. “It’s time he told you what really happened. Time he told all of us.”
“But he won’t,” Liz cried. “He wouldn’t when I asked before.”
“He will now.” Shane’s face contorted in a mix of rage and determination. Liz’s father had been a close friend of his, someone he looked up to. Nobody had seen this coming, and although it shook Liz the hardest, it had knocked them all off center.
“Are you going to be okay, sweetie?” Lauren asked, stooping down in front of Liz, her blue eyes glowing bright with unshed tears. They were all doing their best to be strong because they knew Liz couldn’t be. She’d fought so hard to get to this point, and for what? More lies, more disappointment. Heartbreak.
“I don’t know.” Liz sniffed. “I… I just need a moment to be alone.”
“Of course.” Lauren followed behind as Shane hobbled toward their bedroom.
Dorian gently lifted Liz’s head from his chest and began to transition into a stand, but she pushed him back down on the couch.
“Stay,” she pleaded.
“But you said…”
“I know, but if you leave, too, I’m afraid I’ll disappear.”
He hugged her to his chest. “I won’t let that happen.”
They sat in silence for a long time. Liz focused on the beating of Dorian’s heart beneath her cheek. It was the only thing that felt real.
“I don’t know who I am.” Her eyes drifted toward a spot in the corner of the room, and her vision took on a blurry haze. “I don’t even know my real name.”
Dorian picked up her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “I don’t know your real name either, but I know who you are.”
She forced herself to sit, searched his face for any sign of malice or deceit. But, no, he meant the words he’d said. Which left one very big question. “How?”
“I’ve known you for two weeks, but I knew you that very first day, that very first dance.” A soft smile appeared, then widened.
She stared at him, waiting for more.
“You aren’t a name. You aren’t your family. You aren’t even your past.” He moved her hand on her chest, and now she felt the frightened rhythm of her own heartbeat mixing with Dorian’s strong and sure melody.
“You’re your heart,” he explained, “and you’ve got a great one.”
“You don’t even know me.” She dropped their hands from her chest and placed hers back on Dorian’s. She’d much rather focus on the steady beat than her own frantic heart.
“Oh, don’t I?” He chuckled softly, played with her hair some more. “I know that you kept it together at the wedding, even though your stepmother was making you crazy. I know that you’re smart as a whip and refuse to let anyone—especially me—take advantage of you. I know you’re brave and were willing to face Warwick on your own if you had to. I know you are kind and fair, way more than those nasty stepsisters of yours deserved for all they put you through. I know you love with everything you’ve got and that you learned that from your father, from Ben. I know that you’re tough as nails, and when this is all through, I know you’re going to be okay.”
“How? How could you possibly say all that? I was rude to you. Mean. I didn’t trust you. Even now I don’t trust you fully. I yelled. I screamed. I threatened to call the police.”
“Yeah, but I deserved it. And you’re right, I should have added your feistiness to that list, but it kind of goes hand in hand with being brave.”
She stared at their hands locked together in his lap. Together, they made a fist. Their hands formed a tool, a weapon, and became stronger. Maybe letting Dorian help the way he wanted to would strengthen her investigation, too.
“Why do you want to help me? Why didn’t you just walk away once you got paid?”
“I already told you that day at Tozier. You’re my perfect girl, Liz, or whoever you are. I don’t care what we find. It’s not going to change a thing about who you are or how I feel about who you are. And for the record, I gave all the money back.”