The Marshal walks up to me.

'Looks like we found a way for ya to get into Mexico,' he grunts.

'Really?' I keep my cool. 'An' how's that?'

'There's a girl gone missin' in a small town near the edge o' the border. 'Bout your age. Been missing near on two years now, probably dead though not confirmed. You're both similar height and colour thanks to your tan. With the right clothes, you'd look just the same.'

'But surely I wouldn't just look the same? Won't the villagers recognise I'm not the same?'

'The girl's been gone two years. Young women like yerself can change within a couple o' years. Besides, I'd guess hardly o' the village would remember her in that much detail anyhow.'

'Okay. But surely her parents-'

'Her parents will know what's going on. They agreed to all this. They too have sworn to secrecy not to tell no one 'bout your true identity. It's the perfect disguise.'

'It is,' I say. I am too shocked to say anything else. The Marshal is right – this is perfect.

So I'm going, tonight. Marshal has already filled me in with the details. He said that the reason I'm travelling at night is so that I'll have the whole of tomorrow's day to settle in to the village and speak with my 'parents'. I will sit in the bag of the wagon, hidden from everyone, and Amos will drive into Mexico and into the hills. It'll take most of the night. There I will jump off and run to a place called Repentance Rock where some clothes should be hidden for me. These will be shabby clothes, a little too big. They don't have to belong to the missing girl because chances are she may have changed clothes during her two years away. I will change and become a new person – Louisa. Then I will have to spend the early hours of the morning trying to find my way to her village. When I arrive, it'll look as if I have just come back from being lost out in the hills for two years. My parents will take me in before letting me speak to other people and have a doctor look at me. I will act a little dumb so that he will declare an illness of me. This'll give me time to get used to life without worrying about the villagers, and also an excuse for not recognising them and remembering memories.

Now I look at the wagon and suddenly feel nervous.

Marshal helps me jump up into the wagon and I begin to make my way towards the back when I hear a voice call my name. I turn and see it is LaBeouf.

A puzzled expression is on his face, as if he's not sure whether it was actually himself who called my name.

'Um, take care o' yerself, alright?'

'I will if you will,' I joke and begin to turn back round, but his rough hand puts a firm grasp on my right arm, preventing me from going any further. He edges his face nearer to mine so that only I can hear him.

'I'm bein' serious girl, y' hear?' he hisses menacingly and I shudder. His grasp relaxes slightly and he sighs. 'Look, I'm sorry. I just- I-,' it seems he really does not know what to say. 'I'm beginning to get used to ya,' he finally settles with, 'so don't go dying on me, alright?' I can tell he's trying to be nice. In fact, these are probably the kindest words LaBeouf has ever spoken to me. I nodded gently at him, and no witty remarks came to my tongue. Still staring into my eyes with a look on his face that I can only call pure concern, he slowly releases hold on my arm, yet I do not move. Eventually sense shakes into me and I break the look, turning round to crawl to the bag of the wagon, refusing to look up off the wooden floor. I find myself a crate of vegetables and position myself behind them, hidden from anyone looking into the back of the wagon. Here I curl up, wrapping my arms around my legs, thinking about LaBeouf's words and the long journey ahead…