That's Not My Name

by Megan Lally

“Oh, that?” he says, flipping a sausage patty. “It was some minivan mom trying to sell cookie dough for a school fundraiser. I told her we didn’t need any, since we’ll be getting out of here soon.”

Ben Hooper’s kind, neighborly face stares back at me, under big red letters. MISSING.

I really shouldn’t have let Bowman leave. I automatically turn to my nightstand, looking for his business card. It’s gone. Maybe everything isn’t okay. Maybe it never was.

Girrrrrrrlllll

“Get in, losers, we’re going sleuthing.”

Lol I love Max. He's not only the comedy reflief in the story but he truly is down to ride for his cousin.

Sandra hasn’t been helpful or pleasant. Bad vibes? If she was going to get bad vibes about anyone, maybe it should have been the kidnapper she served lunch to yesterday.

“While you guys were asking like sweet baby angels, I found the security system in the closet across from the bathroom and rewound it until I found the lunch footage from yesterday. I snapped a few photos, grabbed a snack from the kitchen, and I got outta there. I told you—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?

I stare at his blank fucking face and smash my rock into his temple, driving his whole head to the side. He drops to his right knee, his eyes unfocused, as a river of blood runs down his cheek. And I run.

Good girl!!!

The young guy takes the photo of Lola and frowns. “Yeah, but she wasn’t a missing person. She was in a car accident. Her father came and took her home. I just got back from checking on them, actually.” He tilts his head, still looking at the photo. “I can see the confusion though. They’re the same age. Same jacket. But this is not the girl I picked up the other day.”

Bowman sets down the papers, looking sad. “I said she looks a bit like her. We’re talking about two different people. I’m sorry. You have the wrong person.”

I hear them calling my name, looking for me, and one final piece clicks into place. I know my name.

“How sure are you?” Officer McCurry says. “Sure enough to dismiss what these kids are saying?” Damn, it’s nice to have a person with some kind of authority saying everything you wish you could say.

“I wish I had better news for you. And for them. Lola Scott and Mary Boone are not the same person.”

“I don’t know what to do with you,” he continues. “How am I supposed to trust you when you’re so determined to run back to all your mistakes?” He glares at me, like he’s waiting for a response, so I say the first thing that comes to mind. “What do you mean?”

“I mean your whore friends, their nasty parties, and inappropriate behavior. I’m talking about your disgusting music and your hooker clothes, and the sneaking out. The drinking. The boys. The sinning. Why won’t you leave that behind? Why? Why do I have to take such drastic measures to save you?”

I flinch. “I’m not Mary.”

Wayne launches himself off the stairs and screams, “Yes, you are! I’m sick of this fucking game. Every time I find you, it’s the same! You need to stop before you take it too far again. You know exactly who you are! You. Are. Mary. Boone.”

There are names, hand scratched into the concrete. Alison Krissy Courtney Arely Bekah Carly Sheena Ashley

“You’re not Lola,” I whisper. The complete stranger before me glances down at the wall. I follow her gaze to a set of names scratched into the concrete. The freshest one feels like a punch to the chest. Lola

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

Unable to face what he’d done, Boone set out on a mission to “find” her and bring her home again.

While he arrived too late to save Lola, he was able to help free what would have been Boone’s next “Mary,” Madison Perkins of Bellevue, Washington.

Roane worked tirelessly to find Lola Scott, saying, “I knew it was a serious situation from the start. A girl like that doesn’t just vanish. I knew right away this was some Ted Bundy stuff.”

F THIS GUY!!!!!!

As if I wasn’t on the receiving end of their hatred a few short months ago.

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.”

I’ve never seen so many people backtrack so fast. Now I’m a gem. Now they’re so sorry for my loss. Now they’re protecting me from the media and they have my back. Now they want me to raise my pitchfork against the newest most-hated person in the county like I don’t know what it’s like to hold that title myself.

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

“What’s with the ’tude, dude?” Nope. Not Autumn. “Max?” He laughs. “My phone was dead, so I borrowed hers.” God, I hate couples.

If you hadn’t come looking for Lola, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’m only alive because of you and Lola.”

It’s the truth. 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 glad you’re okay, but I don’t want to hear that me loving Lola saved you because it didn’t save her.

“I can’t function, Madison. I can’t go to school. I can’t sleep. I barely eat. Everywhere I look is a memory of her, a reminder that I failed her.”

You went to find her and you came back with answers. You brought her family closure. That’s not a small thing.

“I don’t want to hear this. I can’t hear this. I wanted to save her.”

They went through everything on them, and they told my mom that Wayne’s search for me began the day after Lola disappeared. The next day, Drew. That means Lola was dead almost before anyone knew she was missing.”

If he didn’t take her that night, it would have been the next one. Or the next week.”

The idea that Lola was doomed no matter what is horrific and awful and somehow weightless in a way I didn’t expect.

So sadddddd

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