Chapter 1
The court house said I'd been married for eight years.
I stood in front of the window, staring at the words on the screen.
It read: [Marital status: Married.
[Registration date: March 16, 2018.
[Spouse's name: David Carter.]
I have no idea who this guy is.
I've never been married.
The staff member glanced at me. "Do you want me to pull up the original records?"
I said, "Yes."
*****
When the records came up, I thought I was seeing things.
The marriage registration form had my name, Claire Sutton, written in the name field.
The ID number was mine.
But the photo wasn't me.
The woman in the photo had a round face, willow-shaped eyebrows, and a mole at the corner of her mouth.
I know her.
She's my cousin.
Emily Foster.
She was my aunt Linda Foster's daughter.
I stood in the hallway of the court house, holding the copy, my fingers numb.
Emily.
She used my name and my ID number to marry a man named David.
Eight years.
Eight years ago, I was a sophomore in the provincial capital.
That March, I was in the library, cramming for finals.
But back in my hometown, someone was pretending to be me and got married to some guy under my name.
I folded the copy and put it in my bag.
Then I walked out of the court house.
The sun was blazing.
I stood on the steps and called Linda.
No answer.
I tried again.
Still no answer.
I called Emily.
Her phone was off.
I stood there for three minutes.
Then I called my mom, Grace Hale. "Mom, I went to the court house today to get proof that I'm single."
"Okay," Grace said.
"But the system says I'm married."
There was silence on the other end.
It wasn't a surprised silence.
It was the kind of silence born of knowing this day would come, yet always refusing to face it.
My hands started to shake. "Mom."
Her voice was barely a whisper, like she had a guilty conscience. "Come home first, we'll talk then."
"You knew?"
Grace stayed silent.
"Mom, you knew?" I demanded.
"Come home, we'll talk about it." Then she hung up.
I stood at the entrance of the court house.
The sun beat down on my face, and it felt like it was on fire.
Suddenly, I remembered something.
Three years ago, Michael Carter broke up with me.
There was no warning.
We were totally fine the day before, and then all of a sudden, he told me we weren't a good match.
"Why?" I asked him.
"You know why," he said.
I had no idea.
I asked him again and again.
He never gave me an answer.
Later, I saw a post on his social media: [The scariest thing isn't being lied to. It's not even knowing how long you've been lied to.]
At the time, I thought he meant someone else.
Now, it all made sense.
He discovered the truth.
He realized that, according to the records, I was married.
He thought I'd been deceiving him all along.
He believed I was cheating on my husband with him.
So he left.
He didn't even give me a chance to explain.
Because every official record he checked said Claire was married, since March 2018.
Why wouldn't he believe it?
I crouched down on the steps of the court house.
Suddenly, I couldn't help but laugh.
I lost the guy I loved.
It wasn't because I messed up.
It was all because Emily took my name and ID, and married some guy instead.
And my parents knew about it all along.
My phone buzzed.
It was a message from Grace on WhatsApp. [Claire, Linda didn't do it on purpose. Come home, we can talk it through.]
I stared at the message.
I didn't reply.
I opened my phone's notes app and typed: [March 16, 2018, Emily married David under my name.]
I added another line: [I need to know everything.]