“Have you decided which version of yourself you’re going to be tonight?” Her question startles me, and I sit up straight again to look at her. “Pardon me?” I almost have to shout it across the space for her to hear me. “You. You’re inconsistent. I’m gonna need a neck brace to keep up with all the different personas.” I stare at her. Really stare. Being anonymous in a busy bar has emboldened her in more ways than one. The truest thing I’ve ever said to her pitches up out of my throat unbidden. “I don’t know who I am anymore, Bailey.”
