“Sally, what’s wrong? Why won’t you just… talk to us?”

 

“Please, take a seat, Mrs Stone,” Daniel said with panic and exasperation as he walked into the apartment. Sally’s family, her parents and younger sisters, all trailed behind her like an army of lost ducks. After Daniel had peeled himself away from Sally’s mother, who seemed to be by all accounts a mostly-together woman right up until she’d seen what she thought to be her daughter, he’d asked them all to follow him, and told them that he’d answer whatever questions he could once they were inside. Not that it had helped much; there’d been an avalanche of questions the entire time and Daniel was somewhere between a migraine and a panic attack. Right now, he wanted to be home, and he needed Lisa by his side. 

 

Still, they did as they were asked and all took a seat at the large dining room table, a massive mahogany thing they’d seen at a clearance sale that Lisa had absolutely fallen in love with. Daniel leaned against the edge of it. He heard Lisa’s music in the other room, and debated on whether or not to disturb her. She should be done writing soon, and he didn’t want to disturb her. 

 

“I’m not…” he began, having a lot of trouble trying to figure out how to phrase things best. He’d been on hormones for months now, he had a stubble and his voice was still slowly dropping. They would have been able to tell something was different. But to break the news… tact was not his strong suit. And magic wasn’t a thing here, so he couldn’t very well say the whole truth. He took a deep breath.

 

“There was an accident,” he began. “Some months ago.” He paused to let it sink in, and took another second to figure out if he was doing this the right way. 

 

Sally’s mother, Lin, looked at her children, and then at her husband. She looked exactly like a mother would look after she’d mentally buried her child, only to find them again. Surprised, terrified, elated, confused, exhausted. “William?” she asked her husband, exasperated. The man shook his head. He hadn’t heard any of this either, evidently. Daniel had hoped to keep it that way. He wasn’t going to play the part of their daughter; it was best, for their sake, if they thought their daughter was dead. In the opposite direction, Daniel could still talk to his old friends, but to go public about the factual reality of magic and opening portals between worlds to allow a mother to see her child, who seemed to be much happier in her new life? That was a conundrum best answered by philosophers much smarter than he was. 

 

“I,” he began, and in one word, one letter, he felt that pang of guilt, knowing he was already lying. “I was hit in the head. Badly.” He looked at Lin and William, and then at the two girls, feeling guilty for not even knowing their names. They were around four and eight respectively. The oldest was sitting on her knees on the chair, frowning at him, as if she already suspected something. The youngest sat on her mom’s lap and simply looked confused. She was too young to understand most of what was going on. Sally’s mother looked distraught now, worried, but she still didn’t get up. He was glad she had the sense to sit and wait until he’d explained some things. 

 

“When I woke up I… I had no memories of this…” He paused. He’d almost said ‘This world’, which would have opened a whole new can of worms. He also didn’t know how he was going to explain how a knock on the head had created an entirely new person. Lisa came to the rescue, walking in right at that moment.

 

“Hey babe, I didn’t hear you come in. Did y--” She froze as she saw the family sitting at the living room table. They didn’t have guests over very often. They found it hard to relate to people from this world. An entire family, still all wearing coats and jackets, appearing in their apartment was a little bit of a shock.

 

Sally’s dad frowned. “I didn’t know you were a… you were gay, Sally?” He frowned at Lisa, as if he was trying to figure out if that was the right word, trying to figure out who and what Lisa was. Lisa glared back defiantly and with much more experience, and he averted his gaze. That’s when she realized the name the man had used. 

 

“Oh,” she said. “You must be Mr and Mrs Stone.”

 

They both nodded. “Who are you?” 

 

“I’m Daniel’s… eh…” she paused. There was a lot to unpack and explain here. “Has he told you yet?”

 

Lin frowned. “Has who told us? Who’s Daniel? Sally just told us about an accident.”

 

Daniel looked at her with a pleading look in his eyes. If there was one thing he was worse at than being tactful, it was lying. Lisa rubbed the bridge of her nose. “One thing at a time, I think. So…” She sat down, and Daniel used the moment to escape and make tea. 

 

Lin seemed annoyed. “Why are you the one talking to us? Are you her house-sitter? Are you blackmailing her? If you are threatening our daughter…”

 

“Honey,” William said. “Maybe let the… person speak, first?” Lisa was grateful for the interruption, and the fact that he hadn’t attempted to slap a gender on her. In her experience, past a certain age, people got it wrong as often as they got it right. 

 

“Sally had an accident, some months ago. There was… someone in traffic,” Lisa said, deliberately omitting the fact that that had been Liz. She wanted Sally’s parents on her side, after all. Paint a hero, not a villain, all that. “Sally ran out to save them.” Lin and William looked at each other and Lisa saw a hint of a smile, if not on their mouths then at least in their eyes. “Only… She didn’t quite make it. She was hit, hard.”

 

She paused to take a breath. She’d seen some police serials with Daniel, she knew how people talked to grieving families on these shows and she was doing what she could to emulate that as best she could. There had also been some hospital shows she watched in her own time that she liked for the drama more than the technical terms.

 

“The person that woke up had no memories of Sally’s past life.” That part was true, at least. “The doctors think there was a sort of… backup personality, an identity that was part of Sally’s. No memories, but at least there was a person.” That part was a big fat lie and Lisa knew it, but she also knew that most people didn’t know a thing about how minds actually worked, and she hoped it sounded just outlandish enough to be true. Sure, there were people who co-existed in a single body, but she hadn’t heard of anything like this.

 

“You mean her personality changed?” William asked.

 

Lisa shook her head. It was important to her that they considered their daughter dead. Daniel was Daniel, and she dreaded to think what would happen if Sally’s family decided they would try to take him in and turn him back into their daughter. This was her Daniel and she’d fight Sally’s entire extended family if she had to. “No, Sally was, for all intents and purposes, clinically deceased.” She could tell that Lin was getting upset again. After all, a reunion with her daughter had been dangled in front of her nose and seemed to now be taken away again. “The person that ‘woke up’ in that hospital bed is Daniel, who you met. He doesn’t remember you, he’s never met you, and he has no memories, of anything, until a few months ago.” A half-truth. To be followed up with another lie. “We met at the hospital. He didn’t know a single thing, and I’ve been having to teach him what a television is, what computers are. He’s an adult, but without memories he would have been lost.”

 

“So what was the… the ‘babe’ thing about?” William frowned.

 

“We ended up falling for each other a little while ago. I was in a similar situation for a while, and we ended up connecting over these shared experiences.” While not technically lying, she did deliberately make it sound like she’d already overcome her problems before she’d met Daniel. But she also didn’t want them to think she was some kind of nurse who’d abused her position. 

 

“The people who caused the accident… they paid him hush money that allowed Daniel to find his bearings. The apartment is in his name,” she added defensively. 

 

Lin had started crying quietly and the little girl on her lap, who couldn’t be older than four, hugged her mom. She didn’t understand a lot of what was happening, but she could tell her mom was upset. Daniel walked back in with a tray that had cups and a teapot. William gratefully accepted a cup. Lin didn’t acknowledge it, she just looked up at Daniel.

 

“Sally?” she pleaded. Daniel shook his head quietly. He’d listened to the whole thing from the kitchen. He couldn’t lie, not the way Lisa could. He was close to blowing the lid off the whole thing, but decided against it. For now. 

 

Lin began crying again. William took a sip of his tea with a frown. He had that kind of stoicism that came with being a middle aged man who was never taught to actually express feelings. Daniel was certain things were happening on the inside, but on the outside, William looked about as troubled as if he was considering the purchase of a new sofa. 

 

“Have you been… okay? Healthy?” he finally asked. 

 

Daniel nodded, and then cocked his head. “I suppose. I mean… My name is Daniel. This body… Your daughter’s… it’s not me… which is why…” he vaguely gestured at himself. A part of him wanted to tell them that this was because he used to have another body, one much different, but he couldn’t. “Listen I… I’m very sorry for what happened to Sally,” he said, and chewed on his tongue for a second. “I wish I could be your child but… I’m not.” He stirred his tea. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he added. It sounded hollow. 

 

Lin was still crying. He couldn’t blame her. William got up and put his hand around his wife. 

 

“Maybe it’s best we left. How can we…”

 

“Oh!” Daniel said. “Let me give you my number. Maybe I can… help, somehow.” He knew he couldn’t fix this. If it hadn’t been for whatever strangeness had caused himself and Sally to swap places, she would’ve simply been dead. An idea came to him.

 

William nodded, and they exchanged phone numbers, then Daniel walked them to the front door. As soon as it closed, Daniel leaned against the door and sagged to the floor. Lisa sat down next to him and leaned her head against his.

 

“Are you okay, love?” she asked softly.

 

He sighed deeply in reply. “I just… hate lying to people. They don’t seem like bad folk.”

 

“We can’t tell them magic exists, Daniel. They would call the police if they thought we were mental, and the army if they saw it.”

 

He sighed again and closed his eyes. “I know,” he said. “I know. I just… I wish things were different.”

 

Lisa smiled and took his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers and kissed him on the cheek.

 

“So do all who live to see such times,” she said, and Daniel coughed a small laugh. 

 

“Oh my god,” he said. “You dork.”

 

She kissed him on the cheek. “Yours, Daniel. And I know. I know how you feel. I know lying, by omission, by living a lie, regardless, is hard for you.” She got up and helped him, too, then poured them both a cup of tea. “I have a proposition for you, oh Blight of my Life.”

 

“Oh?” he asked, and hopped on the table, crossing his legs. He blew on his tea. 

 

“If they haven’t all gotten themselves killed yet, the others, Liz and your companions, will contact us again. If Sally is there, we can ask her what she thinks. I’m not going to expose us and our world for the sake of Sally’s parents if we don’t know what she wants to do. But maybe there would be a way to pass a message along. Somehow.”

 

Daniel nodded. “I’d like that. I just… want to have a chance to do the right thing, but I’m so powerless here.”

 

Lisa leaned over, intending to give him a kiss on the forehead, but he looked up at her and they were suddenly nose to nose. Thoughts and heartbeats were interrupted for a moment as their lips brushed against each other. Their skin tingled and they kissed softly and tenderly. 

 

“I love you, Lisa,” Daniel whispered, his breath hot against her lips. 

 

“I love you too, Daniel.”

 

“Do you know what I want to do right now? It’s entirely your fault…” 

 

Lisa grinned wolfishly. “I know exactly what you want.” 

 

She took a step back and took his hand in hers. “Theatrical or extended edition?” 

 

“Extended edition, of course!”