Izzy flinched, squeezing her eyes shut as she was startled awake, loud chatter filling her brain. It was louder than the night before, and easily a hundred more voices spun around her head. The pain was less however, only a throbbing migraine reminding her it wasn't a dream. She slowly blinked her eyes open, expecting bright rays of sunlight, and maybe, if she was lucky, her familiar bedroom walls, but all she saw was darkness, endless, infinite darkness.

She gasped, freezing momentarily before flailing like a fish out of water, desperate to escape. As her cloak shifted in her struggle, she realized she had the hood over her head. She ripped it down, pulling the cloak off and letting it pool next to her on the dirty cobblestones. Ignoring the slight blush that crept up her cheeks, she cautiously stood up, glancing around. No bedroom walls encircled her, no red headed aunts or pouting best friends complaining that she had overslept Instead, she found herself in just another grubby alleyway, the kind you could walk by every day and never realize existed. She bit her lip, pulling on a few itchy eyelashes in thought.

What now?

That thought repeated over and over in her head, weaving among the alien thoughts of bread, sales on apples, and how insane the price of milk was getting to be. She took a deep breath, wishing she was crazy, wishing she could take some sort of medicine and shut it off, but the thoughts were too exact, too specific to be fake.

She took a deep breath and listened to the thoughts, thinking that maybe she could figure out how to get rid of them, or even hear her attackers coming. A minute or two of useless thoughts later, which left her brain feeling like it had a knife stuck in it, she gave up. Rubbing her temples, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths.

She tried to push back the thoughts, needing space to think. It worked, kind of. Every time she pushed them away, they seeped back in. She tried to ignore it as she went over the events of the night before. A few vivid details played through her mind's eyes. Maria's eyes as Izzy said goodbye, Aunt Cassy's hair as she pulled down the cloak's hood, Uncle Gethen's cold eyes and sharp, moonlit scar, and the sound of her bracelet hitting the water. Everything else was a blur of color and sound. She leaned back against the wall, replaying the memories over and over until she had worked out everything in between to a clear resolution. She didn't want to miss anything, because even the tiniest detail could change everything.

But nothing stood out. She couldn't find any details that would explain the mess she was in. In the end, she was sure of only two things. People were after her, and she had to disappear, quickly, and she hadn't been discovered the night before in her trash bag disguise. She pulled herself up and grabbed her cloak, heading to the entrance of the alleyway. People shuffled back and forth, vendors yelling out random products, and spices filling the air.

Another market, of course she had to end up in another market. She glanced at her cloak, which didn't exactly say subtle. Luckily, she had learned a few tricks from Maria over the years. Maria was an expert on anything fashion diy, which included the odd folding of things to make other things. She never quite understood why someone would want to wear a perfectly good t-shirt as a dress, but for once she was glad Maria had forced her to learn. After a few tries, she finally managed to make the cloak look like a jacket. Tied around her waist, she had to fold the fabric a few times to shorten it. Inside outing it also took care of the eye on the sleeve, and the hood hid nicely against her back. It was nothing compared to what Maria could do, no doubt about that, but she had to admire her on the spot handiwork. And more importantly, it would keep her safe…er.

Even with that taken care of, her heart still ached. The end of the alley showed a plaza that was bright and filled with sunshine. It seemed like a different world, one where no one's lives had been shattered and people could live without worry. In addition, she knew she would be easily visible in the open space, which meant easily caught. But as her stomach angrily growled, she knew she had to do something. She hadn't eaten since lunch the day before, and if she stood still, avoiding the future, the cloaked figures would find her eventually. She hesitantly took a step into the light, flinching as it burned her eyes.

She walked through the market, forcing her eyes open against the rising sun. Every unexpected sound caused her to flinch, and everyone seemed like an enemy; like black cloaks could suddenly appear around them. Their smiles and glances suddenly turned sinister. Her brain was on overload, and the voices didn't help. As her migraine grew, she pretty quickly realized she needed to get out of the commercial area.

The area outside of the market was filled with stores, empty of apartments except for the occasional one above a restaurant and such. That explained why it had been so much quieter the night before. She weaved through a few alleyways, sticking to the shadows. Her stomach rumbled again, reminding her it wasn't happy, but she couldn't help that. She had no money, and unless her luck was about to take a turn, there were no euros in sight.

Glancing up at the sky, she decided it had probably been around two hours since she woke up, the sun starting to reach it's peak. She tugged on an itchy eyelash, flicking it away as she bit her lip in thought. As her stomach once again threatened to eat itself, and she knew she had to come up with a plan. She wouldn't be able to run on an empty stomach for long. She patted her pockets, checking for any loose change, though she was sure it wouldn't be enough. But she was desperate. At the very least she might have something to barter?

The first pocket she checked was empty except her phone, but the second gave a resounding squish. She stared at it in disgust as she pulled… whatever it was, out by two fingers. When the very malformed napkin sat in her hand however, a smile grew from ear to ear. It smelled a bit funny from sitting in her jeans all day, was squished beyond recognition from falling asleep on it, and a piece of dryer lint was stuck to it, but she didn't care. As she devoured the Mallowmelt, she thanked whatever being may be out there that she had gone on that stupid date. And then it hit her.

Everything changed once she met him, Fitz. All of the lies, all of the betrayal, it didn't come to light until he showed up. Somehow he was at the heart of this. Izzy froze as another realization dawned on her, the half a bite still in her mouth, sinking like a rock as she forced herself to swallow it.

He called her Sophie.

Not just that, the waitress did as well… His face when she mentioned her- the name, flashed in her mind. He cringed, like he had been hurt… Why?

He knew who she really was. So why didn't he tell her? And why did he look so surprised to see her on that day in on the church steps?

If her life was a lie, her memories erased, that meant she could only account for five years. She had to have a past. Maybe he was part of it…maybe her family was actually alive as well, desperately looking for her.

Or she could have no past, and he could be one of those hunting her down…

Izzy shivered at the thought and tried to push him out of her mind as she finished her Mallowmelt and continued walking. But it was hard. She kept hearing his deep, accented voice whispering her real name, his eyes filled with disbelief and pain. It seemed so genuine, so sincere. And the color of his eyes, such an impossible color. So why did they match her dreams so perfectly? Could it be that she remembered him?

She shook her head, pushing herself out of her thoughts. With a glance at her surroundings, she realized she had been walking aimlessly, lost in thought. She stared up at the sun for a few seconds before attempting to blink away the dark spot in front of her eyes. It was maybe three o'clock. Had she really been wandering around for three hours? She mentally chided herself. It was getting later by the minute, and she still needed a plan. Thinking of some strange guy who appeared out of nowhere wasn't going to help. But she couldn't ignore the fact that he knew her and her past.

As she walked out of the maze of alleyways and onto a large main street, she decided she had to do something. She couldn't just wait for them to catch her, and unless she did something, she would probably always be running, or worse. She took a deep breath to steady her confidence as she finally decided on a plan. She would go back to that café, and she would find out the truth. Even if that meant hiding out in a garbage can to do so. She was tired of running. It had only been a few hours, but that didn't stop her muscles from burning. Plus, her neck still had a crook in it from falling asleep on a dumpster, and only eating Mallowmelt made her feel sick. There was no way she was going to live like this. Not if she could help it. She would find the truth one way or another.

Izzy walked down the sunlit sidewalk, resolute and determined, until she almost ran into a group of girls giggling and whispering. When they made no effort to move, not even noticing her presence, she sighed and walked out around them. As she stepped onto the street, her curiosity grew and she followed their gaze. Her gaze quickly locked onto two teal eyes, her body freezing in disbelief, her foot handing midstep.

It was him.

She may have decided to confront him, but she wasn't ready, not now. Fitz broke his gaze away from hers, and she watched helplessly as he turned to a man walking out of the door way behind him. The man turned, his blonde hair swaying slightly with the sharp movement as his bright blue eyes bore into hers. They were stretched wide, and there was a sharpness to them, a pain. He then made a large, sweeping motion with his two tanned arms, it seemed to say "no," but why? Fitz began to run forward, turning his head and saying something back to the man. The group of girls began giggling and squealing, one stating that the "American model must be coming to speak to her." As they began to argue, their voices rising about Fitz's as he yelled something to Izzy, she took off running.

She glanced back, trying to decide what to do, if she should keep going. He was still a good ways behind her. He yelled to her again as he began to catch up, but he didn't notice the bicyclist flying down the road. Izzy stopped, her chest tightening as she watched him jump out of the way just in time. As sigh of relief let her lips before she could think about it. The bicyclist yelled a few choice words as she questioned her relief. But there was no time. She was about to turn back, until their eyes locked again. His teal eyes were filled with worry… and rage. The anger that bubbled up in his eyes felt like a punch to her stomach as she ripped her gaze away from his. Maria's voice played in her head, warning her to "trust no one."

He was one of them. Why else would he stare at her like that, like he wanted to rip her apart limb from limb. Even Uncle Gethen's cold, murderous eyes were more welcoming than his. She turned around, ignoring his call of "wait" and ran into the alley turning the sharp corner as she tried to recollect her thoughts. Obviously her plan wasn't going to work.

As she ran between the narrow, bricked walls however, she suddenly didn't care about plans or her future. Because as a large hand grabbed her around the waist, and a tall figure appeared from the shadows, she only cared about now.

She flailed, ignoring the sharp, burning pain her aching muscles made in protest as she struggled to escape. A cloth was shoved against her nose, and the air suddenly turned sickeningly sweet, like cotton candy lit on fire. It burned her throat and lungs as she clawed at anything in reach, desperate to escape.

But the grip was too strong, and soon she began to fall into a dark, dreamless void. The last thing she heard before she lost her grip was an accented voice screaming her name.

Sophie!