I was waiting for a taxi when a woman suddenly grabbed my arm.
“There you are!”
“I’m sorry, you’ve got the wrong person.”
She stared at me.
“No. I’m sure.”
Then she showed me a photo.
It was me.
Same face. Same scar above my eyebrow.
“This is my fiancé, Daniel,” she whispered. “He disappeared six months ago.”
I laughed nervously.
“My name isn’t Daniel.”
Before she could respond, a man in a black jacket approached us.
The woman panicked.
“That's the man who’s been following me.”
We ran.
Later, she showed me another photo , Daniel as a child.
I froze.
It was me.
I called my mother.
“Mom, did I have a twin?”
Silence.
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My boss called me into his office on a Friday afternoon.
He closed the door and said,
“I’m sorry, but we’re replacing you.”
I stared at him.
“Nothing personal,” he added. “We found someone more qualified.”
I smiled.
“Of course. I understand.”
He looked almost disappointed that I wasn't upset.
What he didn’t know was that I'd already accepted a position with his biggest competitor.
And I wasn't going alone.
Six of the company’s biggest clients had followed me because they trusted me not him.
On Monday, I handed in my resignation.
He laughed.
“You’ll regret this.”
I smiled.
“Maybe.”
Two weeks later, his phone rang.
It was one of his biggest clients.
Then another.
Then another.
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