THE LAST CALL — PART TWO: MONDAY MORNING

THE LAST CALL — PART TWO: MONDAY MORNING

Emma barely slept all weekend.

Every time she passed a mirror, Frank stared back.

His face.

His hands.

His Body.

On Saturday morning, she automatically reached for her usual clothes, then remembered none of them fit her anymore.

On Sunday evening, she found herself sitting on the edge of the bed staring at photographs of herself and Frank.

Except now the photographs seemed horribly wrong.

The woman smiling in them was Emma.

Her face.

Her body.

Her life.

And somewhere hundreds of miles away, Frank was wearing all of it.

By Monday morning, Emma had made her decision.

She was going to the clinic.

With or without him.

---

The receptionist looked surprised when Emma arrived alone.

"Good morning, Mr Harris."

Emma hated being called that.

"It's Emma."

The receptionist hesitated.

"Of course. I'm sorry."

Emma placed the appointment card on the Desk.

"We're supposed to swap back today."

The receptionist glanced toward the entrance.

"Where is your partner?"

"That's the problem."

Twenty minutes later, Emma sat opposite Dr Helen Mercer, the specialist who had supervised their original procedure.

Dr Mercer had already heard most of the story.

Frank had disappeared.

He had taken Emma's body with him.

He was apparently having a relationship with Emma's best friend.

And he had explicitly stated that he would not consent to reversing the exchange.

Dr Mercer removed her glasses.

"This is precisely the situation our safeguards were designed to prevent."

Emma stared at her.

"Your safeguards haven't prevented anything."

"No."

"So put me back."

Dr Mercer sighed.

"I can't."

Emma's fist struck the desk.

"That's MY BODY!"

"I understand."

"No, you don't! You get to go home tonight as yourself!"

Dr Mercer remained calm.

"The reversal process requires both bodies to be present. Your consciousness isn't something we can simply extract and keep somewhere until Frank is located."

"So what happens now?"

"We have several options."

For the first time all weekend, Emma felt a flicker of hope.

Dr Mercer turned her computer monitor around.

"Option one is the obvious one. We locate Frank."

"The police?"

"Our legal department has already been informed. Frank signed a contract agreeing that the exchange was temporary. Refusing to return for reversal puts him in breach of that agreement."

Emma leaned forward.

"So they can arrest him?"

"That depends on how the authorities classify what he's done. Body-exchange law is still developing. Legally, Frank's original body is sitting in this office."

Emma looked down at herself.

"But I'm in it."

"Exactly."

It was a legal nightmare.

Emma rubbed Frank's forehead.

"What's option two?"

Dr Mercer hesitated.

"We find you another body."

Emma stared at her.

"What?"

"A donor."

"I don't want somebody else's body. I want mine!"

"I know. But if Frank cannot be located, you may eventually have to consider alternatives."

Emma stood.

"No."

"Emma—"

"No. I'm not stealing somebody else's life because Frank stole mine."

"It wouldn't necessarily involve stealing anything."

Dr Mercer opened another file.

"There are voluntary permanent-transfer programmes."

Emma slowly sat again.

"For people who want to swap permanently?"

"Among others. Terminally ill patients sometimes volunteer their bodies before their conditions become irreversible. Some individuals also seek exchanges for personal reasons. And, unfortunately, there are cases where one participant in a swap has died while the other body survived."

Emma felt sick.

"You've got spare bodies?"

"I wouldn't describe them that way."

"That's what you're saying."

Dr Mercer closed the file.

"It's an option. Nothing more."

Emma stared at Frank's hands resting in her lap.

"What's option three?"

Dr Mercer was silent for several seconds.

Then she said, "You keep Frank's body."

Emma laughed bitterly.

"That's not an option."

"It may become one."

"I'm Emma."

"I know."

"I don't want to become Frank."

"You wouldn't become Frank. You would remain Emma. But you would have to build a life in this body."

Emma shook her head.

"No."

"Then we concentrate on finding him."

---

The clinic spent the next several hours gathering information.

Sarah's address.

Her car registration.

Credit cards.

Friends.

Family.

Possible destinations.

Then an investigator entered the room.

"We've got something."

Emma jumped up.

"What?"

"Sarah used her bank card yesterday."

"Where?"

The investigator placed a map on the table.

A small town nearly three hundred miles away.

Emma recognised it immediately.

Sarah's aunt owned a cottage nearby.

"They're there."

"We don't know that."

"They're there."

Dr Mercer looked at the investigator.

"Contact local police."

The investigator nodded.

Emma felt hope returning.

Then Dr Mercer added something that destroyed it.

"Emma, there's something else you need to understand."

"What?"

"Even if the police find Frank, we cannot physically force him through the reversal procedure."

Emma stared at her.

"But you said he signed a contract."

"A contract allows legal action. It doesn't allow us to perform a medical procedure without consent."

"So he can just say no?"

"For now, yes."

Emma sank into the chair.

Frank had planned this.

That was what hurt most.

This hadn't been a spontaneous decision at a petrol station.

He had known the rules.

He had known the clinic couldn't reverse the swap without him.

He had known Emma would be trapped.

Her phone suddenly rang.

Everyone looked at it.

Unknown number.

Emma answered.

"Hello?"

Silence.

Then a familiar voice spoke.

Her own voice.

"Emma?"

Frank.

Emma stood so quickly that the chair fell backwards.

"Where are you?"

"That doesn't matter."

"The police are looking for you."

"I figured they would be."

"Come back."

Frank sighed.

"I called because I wanted to explain."

"You already explained."

"No. I didn't."

Emma gripped the phone.

"Then explain it now."

There was a pause.

"When we started the therapy, I thought I'd hate this. I thought spending a week as you would make me appreciate being myself."

Emma said nothing.

"The opposite happened."

Frank's voice trembled.

"I've never been happier."

"And therefore I have to be miserable?"

"No."

"That's exactly what you've decided!"

Dr Mercer gestured towards the clinic technician.

They were tracing the call.

Emma kept Frank talking.

"Sarah convinced you to do this, didn't she?"

"No."

"Then why are you with her?"

"Because she accepts me."

Emma almost laughed.

"She accepts you because you look like me!"

Silence.

That struck something.

Emma continued.

"Have you thought about that, Frank?"

"Don't."

"Would Sarah have run away with you when you looked like this?"

Emma glanced down at Frank's body.

"Would she have fallen in Love with you then?"

"Stop it."

"Or does she just want my body too?"

Frank hung up.

Emma immediately looked at the technician.

"Did you get him?"

The technician nodded.

"We've got a location."

---

Two hours later, police arrived at the cottage.

But Frank and Sarah were gone.

Inside, investigators found takeaway containers, clothing and two unmade beds.

They had definitely been there.

An envelope sat on the kitchen table.

One word was written across it.

EMMA.

Inside was the original clinic appointment card.

Monday.

10:00 a.m.

Frank had crossed out the appointment.

Beneath it, he had written:

I'm sorry.

Emma tore the card in half.

Then she noticed something else inside the envelope.

A photograph.

Frank and Sarah.

Taken sometime during the weekend.

Sarah was smiling.

And beside her stood Emma's body.

Her face smiling.

Her arm wrapped around her former best friend.

Emma stared at the photograph for a long time.

Then she stopped crying.

She returned to the clinic that afternoon and walked directly into Dr Mercer's office.

"You said there were three options."

Dr Mercer nodded.

Emma placed the photograph on the Desk.

"I've got a fourth."

"What?"

Emma looked directly at her.

"I'm going to find Frank."

Dr Mercer frowned.

"And when you do?"

Emma looked down at Frank's body.

For the first time since the swap, she didn't see it merely as a prison.

It was strong.

It was healthy.

And, most importantly, everyone searching for Frank was looking for the man whose face Emma now wore.

A strange smile appeared on her face.

"I'm going to remind him of something."

"What?"

Emma picked up the photograph.

"He's running around wearing my face."

She slipped it into her pocket.

"But I'm the one wearing his."

And with that, Emma walked out of the clinic.

Frank had stolen her life.

Now Emma was going to use his to get it back.