The Liberation of Alice Love by Abby McDonald

you’re busy…”
    “It’s no problem,” Nathan insisted. “I’m usually stuck trailing tax cases and wayward CEOs,” he added. “So, identity theft should be a fun break.”
    “I’m glad,” Alice replied drily.
    He laughed. “Aw, come on…You’ve just got to get into the spirit of it, that’s all. I was wading through safe-deposit receipts when Stefan called. This is like a vacation compared.”
    Something about his ease began to grate at Alice. Did he treat everything as a joke? “It’s nice my nightmare is appealing to you.”
    “Right, sorry.” He stopped, pausing for the waitress to deliver their food. When the plates were laid out between them, he adjusted his expression from delight to appropriate concern. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
    Nathan managed to keep the solemn look while Alice ran through the whole sorry tale of cheating and betrayal. Then the corners of his lips tugged up again, as if he couldn’t help it.
    “You know what this means, don’t you?” He leaned forward on his elbows, eyes bright.
    Alice was almost used to that flush of shame, but this time, it was worse. Nathan didn’t know that she was usually the picture of responsibility; he must think her such an idiot. She picked at her salad, blushing. “That I’m stupid and trusting, I know.”
    “No—that she’s good !”
    “Good, right.” Alice nodded along. She should have ordered something alcoholic, wine, perhaps, or even whiskey. Anything to numb the embarrassment of having blindly trusted Ella for so long.
    “No, think about it,” Nathan urged. “She spent that long pretending to be your friend, and her story never slipped—not once? That takes something special. I mean, months of work, flawless preparation, and nobody had a clue?” He shook his head with clear admiration. “The woman’s a professional.”
    “I’ll let her know she has a fan,” Alice remarked wryly. “She’d like that.” Then she caught herself: “At least the Ella I knew would have liked that. But I suppose all of that was fake.” She took a long sip of her drink, still not used to referring to Ella in the past tense—or thinking of her as anyone but Ella.
    “I wouldn’t say that for sure…” Nathan paused thoughtfully, applying a liberal coating of ketchup to his burger. “Playing a long con like that, criminals typically keep a lot of the details true, to save them from having to learn too many lies or getting tripped up over the easy stuff. It was months she had you going, right?”
    “Five months,” Alice confirmed. “But it felt longer. We all…” She trailed off, feeling foolish, but Nathan was waiting, so she pressed on. “Everyone who met her, they agree—it was like we’d known her for years.”
    He nodded. “There are ways to do that. Tricks, to build a sense of camaraderie and make you feel you’ve been friends forever.”
    “Wonderful.” She let out a long breath. Another manipulation to add to the charade. “I suppose I won’t get any real answers until you track her down. How does that work, anyway? The police have done nothing but send me paperwork.”
    Nathan gave a sympathetic grin. “They do seem to be big on ticking all the right boxes. But finding someone—anyone—is a piece of cake. You track their card transactions, log any passport activity—even hotels or car rental places need ID of some kind.”
    Alice felt reassured for the first time all week. “So you can find her?”
    Nathan hesitated.
    Her confidence slipped. “What?” Alice asked, confused. “You said it’s a piece of cake. And you never lie about pastry,” she added, recalling their banter at the party.
    “Usually, yes,” he agreed, clearing his throat. “But I’ve run all my usual checks already, and, well, there’s nothing.”
    “Nothing?” Alice repeated, sinking back in her seat.
    “Which is incredible,” Nathan told her. “I mean, people have tried to disappear as a game, and they’re caught