Updated Feb 20, 2026 • ~7 min read
LUCIA
The flight to Phoenix is two hours.
I spend the entire time imagining what Carmen looks like now.
Does she still look like me?
Will it be like looking in a mirror?
Agent Frost meets me at the airport.
She’s exactly what I pictured. Professional. Intimidating.
“Lucia Santos?”
“That’s me.”
“Follow me, please.”
We drive to a safe house in Scottsdale.
Nice neighborhood. Quiet street. Nothing that screams “witness protection.”
“Some ground rules,” Agent Frost says as we park. “No photos. No sharing the address. No telling anyone—and I mean anyone—that you’ve seen her.”
“I understand.”
“This meeting is a risk. Carmen is taking a big risk meeting you. Don’t make her regret it.”
The warning is clear.
Don’t fuck this up.
CARMEN
I’m pacing.
My sister is about to walk through that door.
My twin.
The person I haven’t seen in five years.
Agent Frost said she looks exactly like me.
Which makes sense.
We’re identical.
But five years is a long time.
The door opens.
And there she is.
It’s like looking in a mirror.
Same face. Same hair. Same eyes.
But different somehow.
She’s staring at me with the same shock.
“Carmen?”
“Lucia.”
We stand there for a long moment.
Then she starts crying.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobs. “I’m so sorry for everything.”
I pull her into a hug.
She feels like home.
Like the missing piece I didn’t know I’d lost.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “It’s okay.”
LUCIA
Carmen looks exactly like me.
But she’s different.
Harder somehow. More guarded.
Five years of hiding will do that.
We sit on her couch.
Agent Frost leaves us alone.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Carmen says.
“I can’t believe you’re real. I’ve spent so long thinking of you as this mythical person.”
“Same. Mom barely talks about you.”
“Mom knows where you are?”
“She knows I’m safe. That’s all I could tell her.”
“Does she know about… West?”
Carmen’s expression darkens.
“Agent Frost told me what happened.”
“I’m so sorry—”
“Stop apologizing. You did what you thought was right.”
“It wasn’t right. It was selfish and stupid.”
“It was human.”
I look at my sister.
“He loved you. Did you know that? Even after all these years.”
Carmen’s eyes fill with tears.
“I loved him too.”
“Then why didn’t you—”
“Because I would have gotten him killed.”
The words hang in the air.
“The people I testified against—they have long memories and deep pockets. If they found out I was still in contact with West, they would have used him to get to me.”
“So you left to protect him.”
“Yes.”
“He thinks you just ran. That you got cold feet.”
“I know. It’s better that way.”
“Is it?”
Carmen is quiet for a moment.
“I don’t know anymore.”
WESTLEY
I’m at Kerry Park.
The place I took “Carmen” on one of our first dates.
The place I told her I loved her.
Except it wasn’t Carmen.
It was Lucia.
I keep trying to separate them in my mind.
The woman I thought I knew.
The woman who was actually there.
But they’re tangled together.
“West?”
I turn.
Tate is walking toward me.
“How did you know I was here?”
“Lucky guess. You always come here when you need to think.”
He sits next to me on the bench.
“Have you talked to her?”
“Who? Lucia?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“Are you going to?”
“What would I say?”
“I don’t know. Maybe ask her why she did it?”
“She told me why. She fell in love with me.”
Tate looks at me.
“And you don’t believe her?”
“How can I? Everything was a lie.”
“Was it? Or were just the circumstances?”
I run my hands through my hair.
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying maybe the feelings were real even if the identity wasn’t.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No. But it makes it understandable.”
I stare at the skyline.
“I don’t know if I can forgive her.”
“You don’t have to decide right now.”
“Then when?”
“When you’re ready.”
LUCIA
Carmen makes tea.
We sit at her small kitchen table.
“Tell me about you,” she says. “Your life. Your dreams. Everything.”
So I do.
I tell her about working at the coffee shop.
About my writing.
About Paloma.
About feeling invisible my whole life.
“I’m sorry,” Carmen says when I finish.
“For what?”
“For leaving. For disappearing. I left you to deal with everything alone.”
“You didn’t have a choice.”
“I did. I could have told you. Before I left. But I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“That you’d try to stop me. Or worse—that you’d want to come with me.”
Tears stream down my face.
“I would have. If you’d asked.”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t ask.”
We cry together.
For the years lost.
For the sisterhood we never got to have.
For the pain we’ve both carried.
“Can I ask you something?” I finally say.
“Anything.”
“Do you think West will ever forgive me?”
Carmen takes a long sip of tea.
“West is one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. He forgives easily.”
“But?”
“But you didn’t just hurt him. You made him question everything. That’s going to take time.”
“I don’t have time. I’m leaving Seattle.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t stay there. Not when everything reminds me of him.”
Carmen reaches across the table and takes my hand.
“Running away doesn’t fix anything. Trust me.”
“You ran.”
“And look where it got me. Hiding. Alone. Cut off from everyone I love.”
“You saved lives. You’re a hero.”
“I’m a coward who chose survival over love.”
The bitterness in her voice shocks me.
“Carmen…”
“Don’t make my mistakes, Lucia. If you love him, fight for him.”
“He doesn’t want me.”
“Did you ask?”
No.
I didn’t.
I just assumed.
“What if he says no?”
“Then at least you know. At least you tried.”
WESTLEY
I’m at Jonah’s place for dinner.
Mom and Dad are there too.
Family dinner. The first one since everything imploded.
“Have you heard from her?” Mom asks gently.
“Mom—” Jonah warns.
“I’m just asking.”
“No,” I say. “I haven’t.”
“Maybe that’s for the best,” Dad says.
“Maybe.”
But it doesn’t feel like the best.
It feels empty.
“I liked her,” Mom says quietly. “Whoever she was. She seemed good for you.”
“She lied to us.”
“Yes. And that was wrong. But people make mistakes, sweetheart.”
“This wasn’t a mistake. This was deliberate.”
“Was it? Or was it a moment of poor judgment that spiraled?”
I think about that day at the coffee shop.
The moment I called her Carmen.
The moment she could have corrected me.
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe you should find out.”
LUCIA
I fly back to Seattle with a mission.
Carmen was right.
Running won’t fix anything.
If I’m going to leave Seattle, I need closure first.
I need to at least try to explain.
To make West understand.
Even if he still hates me after.
At least I’ll know I tried.
I text Paloma from the airport.
Me: I’m back. And I’m going to talk to West.
Paloma: Are you sure that’s a good idea?
Me: No. But I’m doing it anyway.
Paloma: Good luck. You’re brave.
Me: I’m terrified.
Paloma: Same thing.
I take an Uber straight to West’s apartment.
My hands shake the entire drive.
This is insane.
He’s going to slam the door in my face.
Or worse—call the cops.
But I have to try.
I stand outside his building.
Finger hovering over the buzzer for his apartment.
Do it, Lucia.
Do it before you lose your nerve.
I press the button.
It rings.
And rings.
And—
“Hello?”
His voice makes my heart stop.
“West? It’s Lucia. Please don’t hang up.”
Silence.
Long enough that I think he did hang up.
Then:
“What do you want?”
“Five minutes. Just give me five minutes to explain.”
“You already explained.”
“Please. I flew to Phoenix. I met Carmen. I have things to tell you.”
More silence.
Then the door buzzes.
I’m in.
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