That's Not My Name

by Megan Lally

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

“I’m not a stranger. I’m her father.”

I have a feeling she was kidnapped by this guy and she got away ??

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

Name: Lola Elizabeth Scott Age: 17 Hair color: Dark brown Eye color: Green Last seen: 10:55pm on September 29th at the Willamette River boat launch in Washington City

Sounds like mary is lola..still assuming kidnapped..

“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.

“Hijito, they found a body.”

Oh no .. What if drews pov is about lola/mary affer death and hers is leading up to it...hmmm..

It’s a jean jacket, with rose gold buttons and pastel, floral sleeves. Periwinkle, orchid, and lilac on white fabric, with vintage leaves. I fight the urge to frown. Apparently I’m a floral person?

Hmm... Just like lolas ...

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.”

Wont let her go out in public...hmmm... Suspicious

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.”

Weird that he told her with certainty she had an egg allergy...and now it's strawberries? Yeah honey this man is NOT your father...

BC HE IS NOTTTTT YOUR FATHERRR

Sounds like this woman knows her as lola omg

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.

My parents don’t deserve a son as careless as me. If they knew what I did, they’d never forgive me.

Did he cheat or something.....

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.”

Omg the woman from the diner parking lot!!!!

He killed old man ben didnt he.....

A sweet old man meets us by the side of the road, looks at me like he’s trying to place me, and then vanishes before he ever makes it home? The flier said he went missing on his afternoon walk, not later that night. During. Which means he disappeared between talking with us and returning to his house next door.

Omg

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?

The coyote dug up Ben Hooper’s corpse.

“Oh, Mary. You always ruin everything.”

And I run.

This looks like a place where dreams go to die.

No.....lola was already here and murdered....

One girl too late.

:((

“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.

During the investigation into his death, the remains of an elderly neighbor and nine teenage girls were discovered on and around the property.

An extensive search of Boone’s McMinnville house led to the discovery of additional remains buried under a concrete slab in the backyard: his daughter, Mary Boone,

Unable to face what he’d done, Boone set out on a mission to “find” her and bring her home again. The abductions began less than a month after his daughter’s death.

I’m like a zombie version of myself.

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.