The thief didn't jump. He didn't look guilty. He slowly looked up, adjusted his glasses—Elias’s glasses—and offered a small, pitying smile. Hello, Arthur. Arthur? Elias stammered. My name is Elias.
Elias felt the floor tilt. No, that’s not... I remember my childhood. I remember my mother. Identity Thief
Elias felt a cold prickle at the base of his neck. That’s impossible. I am Elias Thorne. The thief didn't jump
Should we follow the as he tries to survive on the run? Should we see if the new Elias has an even darker secret? Hello, Arthur
Elias backed away. He reached into his pocket for his phone, but when he tried to unlock it with his thumbprint, the sensor vibrated in rejection. He tried his passcode. Incorrect.
The thief stood up. He walked to the door and locked it. You were Arthur Vance, he said quietly. A drifter. A man with a record for petty theft and a history of disappearing. You stole the identity of a quiet archivist named Elias Thorne five years ago. Did you really think you were the first person to have this idea?
He climbed out onto the fire escape just as the heavy thud of boots hit the hallway outside. He disappeared into the city, a man with no name, no past, and no face, searching for a new shadow to inhabit. If you’d like to keep going with this story, let me know: