The Writer Gets Introduced

“Are you implying that I lied?” he asks, voice so quiet I have to strain to hear him.

I was a bit lost for words…maybe it’s his real name—but then again, maybe he’s just an awfully good actor. I opened my mouth, and then shut it again, remembering the way he wrenched my hand last night.

“It just seemed a little…coincidental,” I whispered, holding Scooter close to my chest.

“It’s spelled R, A, I, N, E,” he said, spelling out the name.

“I still don’t believe you,” I grunted, and squished Scooter for comfort. Scooter licked my chin, and I stroked his head.

Raine sighed. “Would you believe me if I told you my full name?”

I thought for a moment, and then nodded slowly.

His face reddened slightly, and he took a breath. “My mother originally named me Ahaziah Raine Hirsch…happy now?”

I tilted my head at the last name.


“No, Jewish.”

Now it was my turn to turn red.

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