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plastic sheet. The coroner pulled the plastic back to show me the rose she held, her hands bound by rope. Her hair and make-up perfectly styled to be a 1950s model. She was naked and covered in thousands of blue forget-me-nots. Someone had taken the time to dead-head them and use them as a cover for the body.
    I knelt down and stared at the face that matched mine. She had the same blue eyes and black hair. Same skin tone, and even the same tiny butterfly tattoo on her ankle. The coroner ran his hand over the victim to close her eyes as nausea rose up in my stomach. A subtle wind blew and a flicker of silver caught my eye as I looked at the flowers. She wore a necklace. Mark and the coroner saw it the same time I did. The coroner moved the flowers lightly, adding light to the necklace on her chest. It was a silver braided rope in the shape of a noose.
    I reached my hand into the top unbuttoned portion of my shirt and pulled out my silver necklace. Mark and the coroner stared as I held it out. It matched hers exactly. It was like looking in a mirror. She was me.
    My necklace had been a graduation present from my sperm donor, Nikolas. It was his way of saying being a lawyer was like hanging yourself. While I did not see the same meaning, I wore it every day anyway. I started walking backward as Mark followed. My thoughts clouded as the nausea overwhelmed me. I found myself turning around to face a large group of paparazzi.
    “Have you identified the body? Is it the same Cut-Me-Not killer?”
    I could not answer any of their questions. I ran across the street and into the park. I stopped and threw up in the trash can just outside the zoo.
    The coroner was behind me.
    “You all right, dear?” he asked as my dry heaves kicked in.
    “She was me,” I blurted out as my heart raced. My palms grew sweaty and my head began to ache. I thought I might throw up again, but the coroner had me sit on the park bench and place my head between my knees.
    “I understand what you see, but she is not you. You are still here, and she is not. You both have similar items which means you have similar taste. That is all.” He gently rubbed my back.
    “What’s your name?” I should have known before I arrived, but my curiosity got to me before I could think to ask for names.
    “James Garie.”
    I lifted my head from my knees, and reached up to shake his hand. “I am the new nauseously mortified Assistant District Attorney Brooklyn Montgomery,” I said as we shook hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
    “Well, Ms. Montgomery, how do you feel now?” James asked.
    “I think I want to go home.” I rose to my feet. “Can you tell Mark I will wait here for him to drive me?”
    James nodded, and went to get Mark. He wasn’t gone a moment when a man walked up.
    “You all right, Miss?” he asked, as I hugged my belly from the nausea. The man had an accent I could not place.
    “Just a little nauseous. I will be fine, thank you.” I took a second glance at this man, as most people in New York City are not nice enough to stop a stranger on the street and see if they’re okay.
    He had blond hair and dark green eyes. He was very tall, but it was hard to tell how tall from my position on the bench. He had a crooked nose that looked like it had recently healed from a break. I looked down at his hands; he was cracking his knuckles when I saw a dripping dagger tattooed just below his thumb. His black hoodie was out of season for the weather, and he looked like he had mud all over his jeans.
    “Miss, I just want to say even though you are feeling ill, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Your face is truly one of a kind.”
    Before the chills of danger shivered down my body, he had already walked away. It wasn’t long before I saw Mark coming for me with two extra officers and a worried look on his face. I watched as he scanned the area as if the killer was there somewhere.
    “Brook, you all right?” Mark asked, reaching down