Terry and I are led to an interview room, where I’m assured that we will have privacy. My foot’s still in pain, but there’s no sign of blood, infection, or a splinter.

I start asking questions as soon as I sit down. “Terry, what the hell is going on? What happened to Josh? Who’s Jordyn-with-a-Y and why do the police think I kidnapped her? Why am I suddenly old? Why are you suddenly old?”

Terry holds his hand up to get me to pause. “There’s a lot to explain, but the first thing I want you to know is that I know you didn’t kidnap Mrs. Bradford, and I know you didn’t break into her house. We’re going to get you out of here today. What’s the last thing you remember before waking up in that nightgown?”

I think for a moment. My memory’s a little cloudy - it feels like both yesterday and decades ago. “I remember showing Josh a pendant that I found in a secondhand store that I thought Amanda would like. Things get fuzzy after that.”

Terry sighs. He pulls a sealed letter out of his jacket and hands it to me. The words “For Jordan” are written on it in Josh’s handwriting. “I want you to read this before we say anything else. Nobody but you, Josh, and I will know what’s in it. It may answer some questions, and it may raise some others.” I open the letter and read:

Dear Jordan,

If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead, so this is the only way that I can tell you how sorry I am that things happened this way. I swear, if there had been any other path, I would have taken it, and I tried so hard to find it.

I don’t know how this letter will find you – whether you will remember what happened all those years ago, or what’s happened since. So I will start there.

First, I was in love with you from the time we met. Your energy for life, passion for learning and teaching, and interest in my hobbies led me to think that we had a connection that could last a lifetime. But you were with Amanda, and I didn’t even know if you liked men. So I was happy to have you as my roommate, until you made that wish.

I don’t know where that pendant came from, or how it ended up in the shop where you bought it. What I do know is that you showed it to me, I said Amanda was lucky to have you, and I handed it back. Then, you said that you wished I could have a woman to love me the way that I deserved. Immediately after you said that, you said the pendant felt warm, and you put it back in the box you’d bought for it. It was late, and we decided to both go to sleep.

That was the last time I saw my roommate Jordan. The next morning, I was sharing an apartment with my roommate/girlfriend Jordyn. She came out of her bedroom – your bedroom – wearing the pendant, only its center stone was now red instead of clear. It feels weird even now to write this, but even without the connection of the pendant, I knew that Jordyn was fundamentally you. She had different memories and experiences (and, sadly, a much worse relationship with her “parents” that you did), but apart from the things that created the fictional history of Jordyn, she behaved the same way you did, had the same interests and passions, and the same likes and dislikes. She even ate her spaghetti in the same annoying way that I still found endearing.

And, of course, she was different than you in that she was openly and happily in love with me.

The first couple weeks were very hard on us. I tried to find ways to reverse the wish, but information about magical wishing pendants is scarce, and Jordyn didn’t understand why I was trying to ruin what we had. Your parents came looking for you, and all I could tell you was that I hadn’t seen you since that night. I helped them with missing persons paperwork that I knew would never go anywhere and helped them grieve the son that I knew was still alive, but not in a form that they would recognize or would recognize them.

In time, I came to accept that the man I loved was gone, and I had the woman who loved me instead. I’m not going to say that I didn’t love her too – I love her as much and as in the same ways that I loved you – but it still felt like a betrayal at first. That faded with time as well, especially when we got married.

I’m not proud to say that for a few years, I didn’t think of you, only of Jordyn. Then our children were born, and I knew I would never forget again. Everyone recognized Zoe as her mother’s child; only I, and later Terry, recognized your son as yours. I hope you don’t mind that I named him Sam after your father. I think it’s what you would have wanted, and I couldn’t even tell my wife why I wanted it.

As the Internet grew, I was eventually able to learn about the curse that your wish placed on us. Because of that wish, you would be Jordyn as long as we both lived – I would never see Jordan again. It was Terry’s idea to write you this letter, to tell you the story that you deserved to hear if I passed first.

I hope that knowing the truth causes you little pain, and that you are able to continue life as my Jordan once my Jordyn is gone.

Love,

Josh

My eyes tear up as I finished reading. I look at my friend, who had kept my roommate’s secret for so long. “How long have you known?”

Terry gives me a sad smile. “Josh told me about a week after it happened. The wish’s effect wasn’t exact – it changed your body and gave you Jordyn’s clothes and personal effects, but didn’t change any of your legal status. Actually, you’re the reason I’m not in criminal defense.” He sighed and shook his head. “It turns out that learning the existence of one magical identity change opens the door to learning about more. After I helped Josh set up a legal identity for Jordyn, I realized that it was a service I could provide to others. During most of the day, I help people navigate the ins and outs of legal identity change, mostly for people who are divorced or transgender. But it’s an open secret in certain communities that if you need legal fixes, Terry’s your guy.”

I lower my voice. “So what happened to my family? Josh?”

Terry frowns. “That’s the bad news. Your parents and siblings died in a car accident about ten years ago. Josh had a stroke a couple months ago, and passed away last week. Your only family left are Sam and Zoe, Jordyn and Josh’s twins. They’re the two teenagers you saw when you first woke up.”

“Okay, so what now?”

Terry sighs again. “For me? Trying to get your family’s estate restored to you as the sole heir, and trying to get you established as Sam and Zoe’s guardian to keep them out of foster care. Thankfully, Josh and Jordyn’s wills assign me temporary custody while other family is found. For you? I don’t know – I need to work on it. You have a nineteen-year-old’s life experience in a thirty-eight-year-old’s body; life’s expectations don’t meet your preparations. Being a parent for children four years younger than you, for example, is not a great situation.” He stands up. “I’m going to go to the office and check with my contacts to see what resources we have. You might need to hang tight until the kids are ready to deny the home invasion charges.” He takes the letter and leaves me alone with my thoughts and my revelations.

The teens are apparently happy to let me cool my heels in jail for awhile, because I get no release and no visitors for the rest of the day. Great kids, glad they’re mine.

I dream again of being Jordyn, because apparently a magical compulsion to actually be Jordyn for nineteen years isn’t enough. But being Jordyn feels different this time than the last two dreams. I’m feeling uncomfortable, as though my weight isn’t properly balanced, and I’m nauseous – no, I’m still nauseous because I’ve been that way for days. I’m laying on a table in a doctor’s office with my shirt up, and a technician is applying some extremely fucking cold gel to my stomach and putting pressure on it with an ultrasound device. Josh is here, holding my hand and looking at the screen expectantly. The tech doesn’t talk to us as she moves the wand around. Josh and I both ask her questions; she tells us to be patient. Josh laughs at what he thinks is a pun. The tech gives him a weird look, and leaves the room to get the doctor.

Josh and I look at the images that are on the screen. They’re labelled with letters that hopefully mean something to the doctor, because I can’t make heads or tails of them.

After a few minutes, the doctor comes back and looks at the images. He turns to us and asks us how many children we plan on having in the long term. Josh and I have different answers for this – he wants to start just with one and see how things go, I’d like to have three eventually. The doctor indicates a couple blurry images on the screen and tells us that Josh is going to have to learn to deal with more rapid developments because I’m carrying two babies. I squeal with excitement. I didn’t necessarily want twins, but this is a way I can make sure I get at least two babies. The doctor asks if we’ve thought about names. I shake my head; it’s a little early for that. Josh gets a sad smile on his face, and I ask him what he’s thinking. He looks at me and says, “If we have a boy, I think I’d like to name him…”

“Sam Bradford, here to see Jordan Jameson.” Hearing the name of “my” son, as well as my own, wakes me up. I look outside my cell. Sam is here.