1.2

"How much longer will your wife be, Mr. Knight?" A female officer asked, loud enough for me to hear when I finally shut off the water. The skin on my chest was red and raw from all the scrubbing.

"Can I go check on her? She might not be feeling so great, you know, considering," Eric asked politely.

"Sure go ahead," the male officer replied, making me panic on the spot. I was currently entranced by the familiar stranger in the mirror and had yet to even put on a towel.

Grabbing a white bathrobe from the hook beside the shower, I only just managed to pull it over my chest when the door I'd stupidly left unlocked was opened ajar.

"Wife, it's me, can I come in?" He called through the gap in a coaxing tone. A tone I was all too familiar with. The sly bastard acted so perfectly.

"Come in Eric," I tried to keep my voice steady and soft, like how a wife should reply. Not that I had the tiniest clue on how a wife should sound outside of the plethora of films I had watched.

He slipped in the door, closing it gently but keeping it unlocked.

"How are you feeling? There are two police officers outside. Someone heard all the fuss you made earlier, but, well," he was still in character, playing out his lines as if an audience was watching. I guess the police officers counted as an audience.

"I'm sorry sweetie, I, I'm just a bit upset," I twisted my face, my voice playing my 'role' well, unlike the rest of me showing only frustration and confusion.

"It's understandable considering you've lost the baby, but it's going to be alright," he pulled me into a tight embrace, lowering to whisper coldly in my ears, "Play along if you want to keep that pretty head attached."

Not once, in the over sixteen years of me knowing this damn guy, had I heard him speak to me like that. Others, sure, but me? Never.

"I'm just feeling a little anemic, can you grab me something to wear sweetie, I was in such a rush to, to."

I burst into tears, taking great pleasure in the panicked confusion on his face. He wasn't the only fucker who could act when they wanted to.

Picking me up and plonking me down on the sink countertop, he rushed out of the room, spoke softly to the police officers, then returned with a bundle of clothes.

When I attempted to climb down from the counter, he shook his head and began to put my legs through black cotton shorts.

Embarrassed, I pressed my damp foot against his deep blue shirt and pushed him back a step to grab the shorts and maneuver off the counter whilst sliding them up.

His actions weren't actually ones I was not used to.

My Eric and I had a complex history of being each other's only lifeline in the misery of being unwanted, forgotten orphans at the church.

A previously tight relationship that seemed unbreakable, that was until things changed, a month before his death.

We had kissed, and fooled around a little but… This Eric was not the same Eric.

My face turned crimson red as I awkwardly pulled my arms out of the bathrobe and into the dark grey top. When training as a doctor, I had to use the changing rooms often, so discreetly dressing was a previously thought useless skill I'd accomplished.

Once on, I completely let the bathrobe fall to the floor and snatched the oversized sweatshirt from his hands. It was plain black with one large front pocket. It reached down to my midthigh, almost covering the shorts, once worn.

Even if it was thick, I still felt a little subconscious at the lack of a bra underneath. It especially felt uncomfortable since this Dianna was at least two cup sizes larger than my ample B cup before.

Before I could reach the door, his arms enveloped me from behind as he whispered into my ear, "What's your name?"

Scoffing, I looked up at him, feeling the injustice of this Eric not knowing who I was.

"Dianna, but you can call me Di, since it's more 'intimate'," I stuck out my tongue, then my face morphed into one of great grief and fatigue as I opened the door.

The Hotel room was quite large, split into two sections; a living space near the entrance and a bedroom, closet, and ensuite on the other side.

The officers were calmly sat on the sofa in the living space, waiting. Near the door, a sly-looking, skinny young man leaned against the wall, holding a glowing device that his fingers tapped against.

Unfortunately, I couldn't take a closer look at the abnormality, I had to remain in character for Eric's sake. Not that he seemed grateful.

For some reason, he did not want the police officers to know that someone had just made an attempt on his life. My Eric similarly had a mistrust in the police force.

Just focus on the similarities, no matter how small.

"Mrs. Knight," the two stood to be polite, then gawked at me like they'd seen an alien, clearly recognizing this face.

"Dianna?" The woman frowned, taking rushed steps towards me at a frightening pace, "since when did you?" She glanced at the man behind me, then placed her hands on my upper arms, "sister are you alright? What happened?"

This was my sister? The person the Ghost cursed and blamed for my current predicament.

The man beside her was equally disturbed and alarmed at seeing me. The one by the door did not even look up from the glowing screen.

Focusing on the kind ghost's words, I shrugged her off, stepping backward until my back pressed against Eric's reassuring chest. His arms engulfed me from behind, hands resting over my lower stomach protectively.

"Sis, I'm sorry I did not tell you sooner, but Eric and I eloped, we've yet to share the news…" I suppressed my smirk at seeing the shocked expression she was unable to hide. After all, it had only been a few hours since she had, according to the Ghost, tossed me into this bed with malicious intent.

"The baby?" She glanced at the blood on the bed, then down at my stomach, then back at the man still standing by the sofa still in a stupor. "Is it Seth's?" She leaned forward to whisper, but it was clearly loud enough that everybody in the room heard.

The older officer, remained silent, as if eager for the gossip ensuing. However, the man by the door finally stopped looking at the tiny screen and glared over at me, making me shrink in Eric's arms.

"Are you really my sister? Using that cursed name in front of me," I feigned a grievance with her, not knowing or giving a shit about who this Seth character was. Likely it was the scumbag fiance who was currently screwing the woman before me behind poor Dianna's back.

"Of course, it was my husband's child, what kind of woman do you take me for?" I scowled, feigning a hormonal outburst, whilst gripping the hands at my stomach painfully tight.

He simply behaved like a puppet on strings, showing no reaction or resistance.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, just," she glanced up at the man behind me once more, then frowned, "Aren't you engaged to Seth?"

"Who'd want a dirty snake like him?" I scoffed, "I pity whatever stupid girl falls in love with a cheating scumbag like that. Luckily I met my Eric here, who treats me like a princess." I made sure to rub some salt into her wounds, slightly wishing it was just the two of us so I could run my mouth some more, maybe pry some information back from her.

Alas.

"Miss Morgan," the male officer finally spoke up, using an unfamiliar surname. Seeing my frown he swiftly repeated, "Mrs. Knight, I am sorry for your loss. Since the misunderstanding has been cleared up, we'll be on our way now."

The sister shot him a look, then turned to me feigning a pitiful expression, "Are you sure you'll be okay Dianna? Do you not want me to take you home?"

I think she was the one who wanted to take me home. No, thank you.

"My husband will take great care of me, sis, go back to work, I'm fine," I decided to show her what a real pitiful expression should look like, making her scowl and follow the other officer out of the room.

When the door clicked shut, I let out a heavy sigh of relief and went to move out of Eric's arms, only for him to squeeze me tightly, not letting me go.

"Now, care to tell me what you were doing in my bed, covered in blood in the middle of the night?"

Frustrated that he decided to completely ignore the fact he had been literally shot in the head, I simply leaned against him instead of resisting. Tilting my head upwards, I bat my lashes innocently at him, "I'm tired and hungry. Can I tell you after?"

In the mirror before, though brief, I had studied this face. It was similar to my own, but it also wasn't my own.

Instead of my usual hazel brown, these almond-shaped eyes were still hazel but flecked with green and framed with thicker lashes, which stood out more clearly from the pale skin and ashy blonde hair. Otherwise, this face truly did match up to roughly eight percent of my own.

It was scary and unnerving, but even the surname, Morgan, was also different from my surname, Ward, given to me and most of the other unknown children by the nuns at the orphanage.

There were too many differences and my head was really struggling to keep up in its current condition.

I was unceremoniously plonked onto the sofa before he took out what I was certain was a mobile phone now and began typing into it as he leaned against the arm of the sofa.

"Any allergies?" He suddenly asked, making my stomach grumble at the thought of food.

That was a good question…

"As much as I'd love a large breakfast, it's probably best I eat something light, oh, same for you, since you're injured…" I looked at his forehead, which still remained untreated and hidden beneath his shaggy, almost shoulder-length pitch black hair.

Now in the light, I could swear there was a slight navy tint.

Would he let me take a look now?

His eyes narrowed, looking me up and down, then without bothering to say goodbye he left the room, the silent man following him.

Never mind.