The words hung in the stale airplane air long after Chen said them.
You're not her. You're him.
Maya didn't even know what to do with that. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She was still tasting blood that wasn't hers, still hearing gunshots that wouldn't stop echoing in her head like a broken record stuck on the worst song ever written.
Agent Chen didn't wait for her to argue. She pulled a black folder from her briefcase—the kind lawyers used in movies—and dropped it onto the tray table in front of Maya. It landed with a dull thud that seemed to shake the entire plane.
"Open it."
Maya's fingers shook as she flipped the cover. The manila folder felt heavier than it should have, like it contained more than just papers. Like it contained a whole different life.
Inside: a driver's license with the state seal of Vermont. A birth certificate with official stamps. A school transcript she'd never seen, filled with grades that weren't hers for classes she'd never taken.
The name printed across all of them in stark black ink: Alex Rivera.
Male. Seventeen. Brown hair, brown eyes. Five-foot-eight.
Maya's stomach lurched. She was five-foot-six. The photo staring back at her was almost her—but not. Shorter hair that looked like someone had taken scissors to her long waves. Squared shoulders that looked broader somehow. Her face had been altered, blurred into something harder, more angular. A boy she didn't recognize, except for the eyes. Those were definitely hers.
This is insane. This is actually insane.
Agent Chen watched her carefully, like a scientist observing a lab rat in a maze. "These are real enough to pass any inspection. Social security, health records, school enrollment records dating back to elementary school. From this moment forward, this is who you are."
Maya flipped through the papers with numb fingers. Alex Rivera had been born in Burlington, Vermont. He'd moved around a lot as a kid—military family, the fake records suggested. Soccer player. Honor roll student. No siblings listed.
No siblings. The words hit like a punch. Diego had been erased completely, like he'd never existed at all.
"I can't..." Maya's voice cracked like ice breaking. "I can't just—become—"
"You can. You will." Chen's tone was steel wrapped in velvet. "Because if you don't, you're dead within the week. The Morales cartel has resources you can't imagine. They'll trace every trail, every alias, every fake identity we could give you. But they won't look for a boy."
Maya gripped the edges of the folder, her knuckles going white. Alex Rivera stared up at her from the driver's license, smug in his laminated perfection. He looked confident. Like someone who'd never lost everything in four gunshots.
"This isn't me," she whispered.
"No." Chen leaned closer, her eyes sharp as broken glass. "It's who you have to be. Until it's safe."
Silence pressed in around them. The steady hum of the plane's engines felt louder now, filling the space where her family's voices should be. Where Diego's laugh should be echoing. Where her mom should be asking if she'd finished her chemistry homework.
Maya swallowed hard, her throat raw from screaming. "What if..." She couldn't even finish the sentence. What if someone found out? What if she couldn't pull it off? What if she forgot who she really was underneath all the lies?
"What if someone finds out?" Chen finished for her.
Maya nodded, not trusting her voice.
Agent Chen didn't blink. Didn't hesitate. Her answer came swift and certain as a blade.
"They won't." Then, lower, like she was sharing a secret that could get them both killed: "Or we're all in major trouble."
The plane began its descent, and Maya felt her ears pop. Through the small window, she could see mountains rising up like jagged teeth against the dawn sky. Somewhere down there was a boarding school that thought it was getting a new student named Alex Rivera. Somewhere down there was a soccer field where Alex would have to prove he belonged.
I don't know how to be a boy. The thought crashed over her like a wave. I don't know how to walk like one or talk like one or—
"There's a handbook," Chen said, like she'd read Maya's mind. She pulled out a slim black book and placed it on top of the folder. "Everything you need to know about being Alex. His backstory, his interests, how he talks, how he moves. Study it like your life depends on it."
Maya picked up the book. It was warm from being pressed against Chen's body, and somehow that made it feel more real. More terrifying.
"Because it does," Chen added quietly.
The plane touched down with a jolt that rattled Maya's teeth. Outside the window, she could see a small regional airport with mountains stretching endlessly in every direction. Vermont. A place she'd never been, would never have chosen to go.
Maya Castellanos would hate it here, she thought. Good thing she's dead.
Chen was already standing, gathering her things with practiced efficiency. "Your contact at the school is Coach Martinez. Former Marine, completely clean, knows nothing about your real situation. As far as he's concerned, you're just another military kid starting mid-semester."
"Mid-semester?" Maya's voice came out higher than she meant it to. More like her old voice. She cleared her throat and tried again, lower. "When do I start?"
"Tomorrow." Chen handed her a black duffel bag that had appeared from nowhere. "Everything Alex owns is in there. Clothes, toiletries, a laptop with the right browser history. There's even a phone with contacts and text threads going back six months."
Maya unzipped the bag slightly. Inside were clothes she'd never seen—boy clothes. Jeans that would hang differently on her hips. T-shirts cut for a broader chest she didn't have. Soccer cleats in size nine instead of her size seven.
The plane had stopped moving. Other passengers were already standing, grabbing their carry-ons, eager to get off and get on with their real lives. Lives where they got to keep their names and faces and families.
"Remember," Chen said as she prepared to leave. Her voice was softer now, almost kind. "Alex Rivera is real. Make him real. The alternative..."
She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to.
Maya clutched the handbook and stared down at Alex's driver's license one more time. He looked back at her with her own eyes, challenging her to become him.
Okay, Alex, she thought. Let's see what you're made of.