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"Your name. That's not your real name. They stole you after you had been brought home and you had already been named."

"What's my name?" I asked. I felt like an amnesiac slowly regaining her memory, returning from a world where everyone's face was blank, just eyes, a nose, and a mouth, like faces etched on white paper.

Officer Carter opened her notebook and turned a few pages.

"Eugenia," she replied after a moment. "Maybe you're better off being Dawn," she added dryly and started to close her notebook again.

"Eugenia? Eugenia what?"

"Oh, how stupid of me to not give you all of it." She opened her notebook again. "Eugenia Grace Cutler," she declared.

My thumping heart stopped.

"Cutler? You didn't say Cutler?"

"Yes, I did. You're the daughter of Randolph Boyse Cutler and Laura Sue Cutler. Actually, honey, you're going to be pretty well off. Your parents own a famous resort, the Cutler's Cove Hotel."

"Oh, no!" I cried. It couldn't be! It just couldn't be!

"Don't be so upset. You could be a lot worse off."

"You don't understand," I said, thinking of Philip. "I can't be a Cutler. I can't!"

"Oh, yes, you can and yes, you are. It's about as confirmed as it could be."

I couldn't speak. I sat back, feeling as if I had been punched in the stomach. Philip was my brother. Those resemblances between us that I had thought were wonderful, that I had thought had been planted by destiny to bring us together as boyfriend and girlfriend instead were brother and sister resemblances.

And Clara Sue . . . horrible Clara Sue . . . was my sister! Fate was forcing me to trade Jimmy and Fern for Philip and Clara Sue.

So much of what had been a mystery to me in the past was now falling in place. No wonder Momma and Daddy never wanted to return to their families. They knew they were being hunted as criminals and must have expected the police would search for them there. And now I understood why Momma cried out to me from her hospital bed after I told her Philip was taking me to the concert. I could see why she said, "You must never think badly of us. We love you. Always remember that."

It was all true. My stubborn insistence that it was not would have to be put aside. I would have to face it, even though I could not understand it. Would I ever?

I sat back and closed my eyes again. I was so tired. The crying, the pain, the agony of leaving Jimmy and Fern and Daddy behind, Momma's death, and now this news weighed down on me. I felt drained, listless, a shell of myself. My body had been turned into smoke, and I was caught in a breeze that was carrying me wherever it wanted.

Jimmy's face and Fern's face fell away, peeling off like leaves blown from tree limbs. I could barely see them anymore.

The patrol car rushed on, carrying us toward my new family and my new life.

The trip seemed to take forever. By the time we arrived in Virginia Beach, the cloudy night sky had cleared a little bit. Stars peeked out through every available opening, but I took no comfort in their twinkling. Suddenly they seemed more like frozen tears, tiny drops of ice melting very slowly out of a black and dismal sky.

For most of the ride the police officers had talked to each other and rarely said anything to me. They barely looked at me. Never had I felt so alone and lost. I dozed on and off, but I welcomed sleep because it was a short escape from the horror of what was happening. Every time I woke, I held on to some hope for an instant, hope this had all been a dream. But the dreary sound of the car tires, the dark night washing past the windows, and the quiet conversation of the police officers brought home the terrible reality time after time.

I couldn't help but be curious about the new world I had been literally dragged into, but they were going so fast, buildings and people whizzed by before I could absorb what I had seen. In moments we were on a highway and away from the busier areas. I knew the ocean was just out there in the darkness somewhere, so I studied the scenery until the land gave way to a vast mirrored sea of dark blue. In the distance I could see the tiny lights of fishing boats and even pleasure ships. Shortly after that the coastline of Virginia Beach itself was announced by a road sign and in moments, we were driving through the seaside resort with its neon lights, its restaurants, motels and hotels.

Soon I caught sight of a large road sign that indicated we were about to enter Cutler's Cove. It wasn't much of a village, just a long street with all sorts of small stores and restaurants. I couldn't see much because we passed through it so quickly, but what I did see looked quaint and cozy.

"According to our directions, it's just up here," Officer Dickens said.

I thought about Philip, who was still back at school, and wondered if he had been told any of this yet. Perhaps his parents had phoned him. How had he taken the news? Surely he was just as confused by the lightning revelations.

"Looks real nice for a new start," the policeman next to me said, finally acknowledging what we were doing and why we were in the car heading for the Cutler's Cove Hotel.

"That's for sure," Officer Carter said.

"There it is," Officer Dickens announced, and I sat forward.

The coastline curved inward at this point, and I saw that there was a be