Part 2: My son h.i.t me 30 times in front of his wife… so the next morning, while he sat in his office, I sold the house he thought was his.

My eyes.

My mouth.

Even the small scar beside my eyebrow.

A scar I'd gotten at fourteen when I fell from a horse.

I stared at the screen.

"No."

Grant looked at me.

"Do you recognize her?"

I shook my head.

"I've never seen that woman in my life."

She nodded slowly.

"Then someone has gone to considerable effort to impersonate you."

I covered my mouth.

The woman approached the counter.

Presented identification.

Signed documents.

Smiled at the teller.

And left.

The bank apparently believed Gloria Sutter had personally approved the transfer.

I looked toward Detective Grant.

"Where did they find someone who looks like me?"

She hesitated.

"We're working on identifying her."

Then she showed me another photograph.

This one had been taken at a medical office.

The same woman.

Same face.

Standing beside Daniel Pierce.

I felt sick.

But what frightened me most wasn't her resemblance.

It was the way Daniel looked at her.