That's Not My Name

by Megan Lally

I’m a nobody, with no name, and a stranger’s face.

Oh, hey. I guess I remember Lizzo. If all else fails, at least I like good music.

“My teenage daughter is missing. I can’t reach her on the phone; I’ve been driving around for hours trying to find her. I think I have to file a missing person’s report.”

Life really goes to shit when everyone thinks you killed your girlfriend.

“All anyone wants to do is talk. I’m tired of it, Max. Talking won’t bring her back.”

She’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Mostly weathered Christian fiction and Chicken Soup for the Soul books. I don’t think those are mine.

No. I have to stop crying. I have a life to piece back together.

The last place I felt any shred of peace, composure, happiness, and stillness. I want that back, but I don’t know how to get it.

Lola’s story doesn’t end at this boat launch, and neither should your investigation.”

He smiles. “Don’t worry. Nobody will see you.” I can’t explain the stab of unease that sentence brings.

“You don’t have to dress like a vampire just because we’re staying in the forest. It’s not Forks.”

I’ll never give up on Lola, but how am I supposed to fight for her and for myself at the same time?

I don’t know that I am still here. Not really. I feel like part of me left when she did.

I broke up with her. I broke up with Lola. And it may have killed her.

“You know, something about you looks so familiar. I can’t put my finger on it.”

Maybe everything isn’t okay. Maybe it never was.

Max leans over from the driver’s seat. “Get in, losers, we’re going sleuthing.”

Wayne lied to a police officer. He lied to me. He stole my business card. He might have stolen me. And I don’t know what to do.

What if he’s not my dad? What if I’m not Mary? What if that’s not my name?

“Oh, Mary. You always ruin everything.”

This looks like a place where dreams go to die.

“Mrs. Hooper?” I whisper. He looks up at me, eyes wide. “You know her?” “No. But the guy upstairs killed her husband.”

Drew hits hard. But even the best punch can’t level the playing field against a murderer.

“That’s not my name, you asshole!”

My heart breaks for him and for the girls who didn’t get away.

All those names in the basement are seared into my mind. Alison. Krissy. Courtney. Arely. Bekah. Carly. Sheena. Ashley. Lola.

I shouldn’t get to feel better when I’m the cause of so much pain.

I’ve graduated from “evil son of a bitch who killed Lola” to the “hero who charged into a serial killer’s den to save a stranger.”

The man who killed so many helpless girls was bested by a seventeen-year-old nationally ranked softball star in his own house.

I ghosted the girl who saved my life because she looked a little too much like the girl I threw to the wolves.

I lived because you loved Lola enough to chase her down. Without Lola, nobody was showing up in that basement. Without you, I’d have died down there. You’ll never convince me otherwise.”

I’m not okay yet, but I’ll survive today. I’ll survive the days to come. Somehow.