Home Entertainment Game Technology Advertisement Part 2: For eight years, my parents made me leave the house every time my brother brought his fiance over; Mom said, “She comes from a good family, don’t embarrass us”; Dad added, “Just disappear for the weekend”; I did; then one weekend, I never came back; it took them four years to find out where I went.

But the dream had left something behind.

A name.

**Dr. Hollis Byrne.**

I remembered seeing it on my hospital paperwork.

And on the death certificate.

I called Detective Grant the following morning.

When I told him, he went quiet.

Then said, "We've been trying to locate him."

My stomach tightened.

"Why?"

"Because his signature appears on the document used to establish your death."

I closed my eyes.

The doctor who treated me.

The doctor who supposedly declared me dead.

The same man.

***

Dr. Byrne had retired six years earlier.

He lived in a small coastal town.

Detective Grant arranged to interview him, and I agreed to provide a statement about what I remembered.

Two days later, Grant called with an update.

"Stacey, Dr. Byrne acknowledges that he treated you."

I sat down.

"And?"

"He says the patient who died that week was not you."

My entire body went cold.

"What?"