As far as I was concerned the deed was done.I scooted off the bed, stood and reached for my pants."Whatcha doing ?", asked Amy."I should probably go",...I said. I didn't really want to be mean to her but I didn't to talk much either but I did want to leave her, kind of like she did me."You gonna leave just like that, why don't you stay the night", she asked."Nah, I better not", I said.She sat up just staring at me with a dumbfounded and hurt look on her face,"Come on, stay the night", she. All of it. None of it was true. She lived in a three bedroom suburban house with a husband called Charles and a blonde headed daughter with dimples. Cecily wasn't a spy! She'd never been to a war zone. She was a psychologist like it said on the door. She was a fake and a plant and it was a test: an interview. Everything about her was an invention.That's what he told himself as he pushed her against the tree and scooped up the hammer, and immediately he saw the terror in her eyes and knew he was. More

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