People lie, whether they notice or not.

"She's going to be fine" Lie. I was told that when Abby was in the hospital.

"I won't leave you" Abby said. Lie. She told me that before she died.

"It'll get better" Lie. I told myself that when I attended her grave.

Lying leaves bruises. Believing them leaves scars.

The seconds turned into minutes turned into hours turned into days. That was when everyone but Liz was discharged from the hospital with casts, slings, and stitches.

The minutes turned into hours turned into days turned into weeks. That was when I was first allowed to visit Liz.

XxNothingButTheTruthxX

I walk in when they were leaving. Bex and Macey, that is. Anna is not with them. I store that into memory.

My spy mode has been heightened since the incident. I hear every behind-the-scene murmur that the nurses are having around the corner, the devastating crying of people who were just told they had lost a loved one or a loved only has only days to live. I have half the mind to go and comfort them; I know how it feels—being left behind. But a random, scary Goth girl coming to you and patting your shoulder soothingly while you're in distress is hardly what people need.

Macey and Bex glare at me while I walk into the white room. Liz was let out of the ICU three days ago and is now resting on a white bed, breathing through tubes. She stares at me while I sit in a chair parallel from her but doesn't protest. In fact, she doesn't say a word. She scrutinizes me with her nose scrunched up and her eyebrows furrowed. The first words out of her mouth are not what I am expecting.

"You're not Cammie Carter."

"You must have banged your head pretty hard in all that chaos."

"Close the door and lock it. Do the same with the blinds."

I do what she asks tentatively then I sit down on the chair I had selected as mine.

"I made Macey and Bex check for Bugs so we can have this conversation. Don't worry, I didn't tell them about my suspicions."

Bugs were checked off my list the even before I stepped into the room, pulled down the blinds so it covered the gloomy say outside, and closed the door. I couldn't make the same careless mistake I had before. I had that finished with a quick, impeccable scan. I didn't need to know what Bex and Macey did.

"Cammie, I know who you are."

"I'm Cammie Carter." Lie.

"You're Cameron Morgan. Not Cammie Carter."

"Who's Cameron Morgan?"

My face is a mask of confusion. Not a slip of panic in place or any other emotion to fuel her true ideas. My face is a mask of a lie that has rolled down the hill of insane situations and has gotten bigger on the way down.

"Cameron Morgan: Female genius. Elite spy and Assassin—at times. Code name: Chameleon. You're famous throughout the Spy and Assassin worlds but don't belong to either. Kidnapped by the CCC but escaped and you are currently being hunted down by them. My theory is that you came here concealment."

"How many theories do you have about this girl?"

"I have enough to know that this theory is true."

And it is true. But that doesn't mean I can't still try to cover it up with lies.

"Look, Liz," I say "I'm sorry to disappoint, but I know who I am. I'm pretty sure wasn't switched at birth or anything wacky like that."

"Cameron Ann Morgan," It's the full name that sends a shiver down my spine. "I wasn't recruited to Gallagher Academy for nothing. Neither were you."

I twist my body with the punch, sending more power to follow through with my strength. This time it is not Liz who is viciously punching the punching bag, it is me. My personalized boxing gloves are blue and I see it move in a fast blur as it, attached to my hand, gives the bag a fierce beating. Liz's voice echo's through my mind: 'I wasn't recruited to Gallagher Academy for nothing. Neither were you'. I was accepted into the Gallagher Academy because of my stellar grades, right? I push the maybe's and if's out of mind and focus on another topic.

xXNothing But The TruthXx

Cammie Carter. Cameron Morgan. Cammie Carter. Cameron Morgan.

Unfortunately, the question is not which one I like best. The question is 'who am I?'

The answer is Cameron Morgan.

But who is Cameron Morgan if she wants to be Cameron Carter?

This is what I have to find out.

xXNothing But The TruthXx

No one is in the music room. No music notes are left behind. Everything is in proper order and there is not a speck of dust.

I sit on the piano bench. I close my eyes. I play.

My fingers move rhythmically along the keys of the piano and I become the music, just like an avid readers lives in the book he is reading.

The world is blocked out (which is a dangerous thing that I am willing to risk) and the music fills the quietness of vast area the world abandoned.

And I think, yes. Maybe this is who Cameron Carter is. Yes. Maybe this is what Cameron Morgan needs to experience.

To be totally honest, this isn't how I expected my stay at the Academy to go. My steps were quick and easy:

Stay,

Hide,

Leave.

But plans are not normally followed through with ease. Small, multiple problems tend to form into one to make a huge, irrevocable problem.

After all, at the age of seven I leaned about Murphy's Law and was taught that checking multiple times with impeccability was not only needed; it was necessary.

Because at the end of the day: Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

Hi Everyone. Hello. Bonjour. Hola. Welcome. Ciao. Hallo. Shalom. Guten Tag.

So you've read this chapter? Did you like it? Dislike it? Well there's this box to the south (bottom) of this page where you can review and tell me what you think of this story. I think I'm confident enough to have flamers (but not guest flamers. Those irritate me). Constructive Criticism is always welcomed. I love looking for new ways I can improve my writing.

Random Fact: My three greatest fears are: Being blind, creepy crawlies, and pain.

My question to you: What is your favourite question in school and what grade were you in when you took it?

Goodbye. Au Revoir. Ciao. Adios. Tchau. Pa. Auf Wiedersehen. Tot ziens. Hejdå. Farvel. Do zobaczenia.

May (It Was Different Then)