"I am Special Agent Morgan, part of the U.S. Marshal."

I pause for a moment to fully comprehend what he is saying. I take a long breath and return my gaze to him.

"So, what brings you here?" Sorry, but this is all a bit confusing."

"With your brother having a bounty on you and the attack last night, I'm sorry, Josie, we have to put you under witness protection."

My brain begins to spin, and my heart begins to pound. Did he just mention witness protection? I had no idea that was a real thing; I assumed it was just shown in TV shows or movies.

"What do you mean witness protection like fake death change name type stuff?" Although I can see the pain in his eyes, he shakes his head.

"I apologize, Josie." It's simply no longer safe for you."

What is causing everything to come apart? My parents are no longer alive, my brother murdered my fiancee, and now I must flee the town I have called home since I was a child because my brother wants me dead for putting him in prison. I'm not sure how long we've been sitting in silence, but I look up at him and take a deep breath.

"So what exactly happens now?"

He looks up at me and places his hand on my shoulder.

"I know this is a lot to take, but we will transfer you to a different hospital and give you a new identity job. All of it will seem like a lot at first, but once you settle in, it will be your new normal."

I consider what he says about a new normal, a new life, and whether it is time for me to start over. I check the clock; it's just 10 a.m., and I watch as nurses and doctors pass through the hall, Detective Morgan on his phone. I switch on the television, keeping it on low to avoid interfering with his job.

I change the station while listening to the sounds of him typing on his phone and his shoes scuffling down the hall. I land on the news, and my face is across it, thinking about what happened last night. My heart is pounding. I don't know how to feel about everything the news lady is saying, but it doesn't register.

"Josie Miller, the sister of Allen Miller, was discovered dead near the intersection of Oak Avenue at 9 p.m. Friday, only hours after the trial that sentenced him to life in prison. An investigation will be conducted."

I am drawn from my thoughts as there is a faint knock on the door. I look up at Morgan, who stares at me, concerned because neither of us knows who is at the door. He switches off the TV and carefully gets up. With his hand on his pistol, ready for anything, the door opens just wide enough for him to see who is on the other side. I watch as he relaxes and opens the door, allowing a man to enter.

As he gives me a little smile, the sun bounces off of him, revealing his captivating emerald green eyes that wrinkle in the corner. His short brownish beard has touches of red in it, and I'm unsure whether it's categorized as short or stubble. He knows what works best for him since he appears to have just been trimmed up.

My heart is beating so fiercely and fast that I think it's going to burst from my chest. My mouth is as dry as the dessert, but my palms are sweaty. I must appear to be a wreck, with my hair a mess and dressed in a hospital gown. He flashes me a grin, but no matter how hard I try, no words come out of my mouth.

He extends his hand to shake mine, and I pause for a second before taking his hand in mine. His touch sent small sparks down my spine.

"It's nice to meet you, Josie. My name is Collin." His voice is silky like whiskey, and he smells of cedarwood and leather. It makes me think of Wesley when I'm relaxed. I shake myself free of my thoughts and smile at him politely.

"It is nice to meet you too, Collin." He lets go of my hand, and I return my gaze to Detective Morgan as he closes the door and sits down again. I guess I was so concentrated on Collin that I didn't notice the bag he had tossed over his shoulder. I watch as he sits down and pulls out a folder containing several pieces of paperwork.

"So this is the new birth certificate, social security card, driver's license, and some new looks for Josie to go through."

As he hands me papers with photographs of myself or the new me on them, I bite my lower lip nervously. My fingers start to quiver, and my heartbeat becomes so loud in my mind that I can't hear what they're saying. The papers were on my lap. I never believed I'd have to change everything about myself, but one thing was certain: my last name would be changed to Wesley's after we married, but that is no longer the case.

Despite my aches and pains, I manage to rise up and balance myself. I enter the bathroom, close the door, and slide it down, the cold tiles soothing my skin. I'm on fire and can't seem to understand reality. I can't stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks any longer, so I cover my mouth in the hope that no one will hear.