”Vanessa chatted incessantly as we walked. And it wasn’t even as if it was about anything, just idle gossip about people in Wintersmith or on her course, hardly any of whom I knew. I recognised the odd name here and there, but that was about it. But I didn’t mind. It saved me from talking. I mean, what had I got to talk about? Lots, I suppose. I mean, these sorts of dates (although, it wasn’t a date) were all about sharing stories and backgrounds and getting to know each other, weren’t they? And I certainly had what most other people would consider an interesting story to tell. But I really, really didn’t want to tell it. Not now. Not to a girl I barely knew.So as far as I was concerned, she could talk all night and I’d listen. Well, not listen, exactly. More like, I wouldn’t interrupt. And besides, Vanessa had a lovely accent. Not as lovely as Imogen’s, but lovely nonetheless. I said as much to her as we finally entered the town. She had either run out of things to say or had taken. What's thecode word?"I shook my head. "I don't know what you're talking about," I replied."In fact, I don't know anything. I don't know why I told you that I'mBlake, and I'm not even sure that I am anymore."Sloane shook my shoulders. "Becky, don't play games with me. What's thecode word?"I pushed her away. "I don't know any damn code word," I hissed. "I'msick of all this. Just leave me alone, will you?"I fell down onto the bed and buried my face in the pillow. Even as Istarted sobbing I couldn't ignore the foreign feeling of my breastspushing against the mattress and that made me cry even harder." Oh, no!" Sloane said. "Mr. Carter, it is you!"I raised up onto one elbow, grabbed Sloane and hugged her. "Oh, Sloane,"I said. "You believe me? You really believe me?"She nodded her head. "You didn't know the code," she explained. "Youdidn't know the code word that Becky, the real Becky, gave me. She saidthat's how I would be able to tell if the magic spell worked. She wouldknow it, and you.
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