"You mean to tell me you've lived here, all by yourself for four years,

because of this one crazy guy that" -- reli=tion slowly dawned on his

face "--that you think is me?"

Ellen ducked her head, unable to face him. His indignation seemed genuine, but she was still uncertain. She glanced up beneath the fringe of hair that hid her eyes and watched him.

Instead of returning to the bed, he knelt carefully beside the rocking chair, gripping the worn armrest with both hands.

"Ellen ..." His voice cracked,

"Am I Hank?"

When she looked up, she found bewilderment in his gaze, but no sign of guile or deceit. No hidden agendas. If only she were positive. "I--I'm not sure," She turned away, unable to stand the sight of his confusion, "Please, Ellen.

Either I am or I,m not."

" I'm not sure," she repeated.

He stiffened.

"Look!" He placed his palm under her chin and forced her to tilt her

head and face him.

"Look at me! I have a right to know the truth. How could you not know?"

The room spun. The blood rushed in her ears. Unwanted images flashed in

her mind. She couldn't help but thing the unthinlable, speak the unspeakable.

"Because Hank ... he threatened to undergo plastic surgery."

Fire drained from Jack's expression.

"Plastic surgery?"

"Yes." Ellen screamed the word in her mind, but aloud it came outsounding feeble and uncertain. She drew a deep breath.

"He could be anybody. He could be ... you."

A Killer Smile A Killer Smile Rocked by her confession, Jack probed thecontours of his face, searching for signs of surgery. When hisfingertips discovered a thin scar near his jawline, his stomach sank. Helowered himself blindly to the bed.

"Me?" Could it be possible?

"Plastic surgery ..." Huddled in the chair, Ellen drew her knees up andwrapped her arms around them.

"He said he would turn when I least expected," The fear had drained fromher eyes, leaving her face pale and expressionless. Emotionless. Sheremained silent for a moment, then her faint voice took up its tale, "He said betrayal had to be punished. And the next time, he'd make sureour love pact would succeed."

"Love pact?,"

"A fist of pain slammed Jack in chest--a pain of sympathy for her, mixedwith the " His love pact. till death do we part.

called the fire in the auditorium." She leaned her against her knees andsighed.

"The reporters as a poorly executed murder-suicide attempt." Sheered "They actually used the word execute," Jack knew it was his duty to endEliefts assure her of his honest intentions, but unsure of his motivesor his principles.

Was he a jealous man, a dangerous man lover rather than lose her? If itwas true, plain the unsettling, oddly familiar feelings he about her; heknew. so much about Ellen, more than should have learned in just a fewdays.

"Do you have a picture of ... him?" A chilling made his heart lurch inguilt.

Damn. I almost picture of me.

Ellen met his solemn gaze and nodded one." She unfolded herself from thechair the bookcase. From behind a stack of books she withdrew a thick photo album. Ieafmg through the book, she peeled the plastic back on onepage and pulled off a photograph. The picture of smiling coeds wasfolded so it didn't show one male figure on the side. She flaumed downthe crease and handed the photo to Jack.

"That's Hank." She poinl! to a clear shot of a young man with his armaround the waist of a younger Ellen. Instead of staying beside Jack topoint out the comparisons between image and reality, she returned to thechair.

Jack stared at the picture, riveted first by Ellen's youthful smile.

She had been a pretty girl, lacking only a little maturity to fulfillthe promir of her true beauty. Her hair was cut short, curling aroundher face and softening her tomboyish features. He g at the boy touchingthe young Ellen.

Could he see his own features somewhere in the earnest young man'ssmiling face? When Jack glanced up, Ellen was watching his reactionscarefully. He turned his atln-fion back to the picture's smirkingsubject. -"Do I look like him?"

She merely shrugged.

"From what I understand ab6ut plastic surgery ..." Her voice Wailed off.

He examined the youthful features, experienc/ng a sudden, startlingrevelation of his own.

"I don't even know what I look like!" His voice rang though the sfientcabin, and she flinched, making him gret his abrupt response.

She drew a deep breath, then rose to her feet for a second time.

Reaching into the curtalned bathroom, she pulled out a silver handmirror that she shoved in his direction weary, mature countenance andthe fresh-faced college A Killer Smile A Killer Smile student in thepicture.

Jack stared at the man in the mirror, realizing he was seeing himselffor the first time.

Dark hair, ambiguous-colored eyes, a relatively straight nose, an uglybruise half-hidden by the bandage on his head. No remarkable featureswhich would be instantly recognizable.

Hank's hair was lighter, covering his ears. What visible differencesthey possessed could easily have been achieved by a skilled surgeon anda bottle of hair dye.

Jack fingered the thin ridge of scar tissue on his jaw, wondering if itwas asign of an operation or merely nocent injury. He glared at him.eelf.

The mirror served only to fuel his questions, not answer them.

"I guess a good surgeon could turn this" -- he pointed to the photograph"'to this." Jack rubbed the several days' growth of stubble on hischeeks.

Ellen drew a deep breath and took the photograph from him, stari at thefigures caught ina one day someone would come. Someone who looked ferent maybe even acted different on the surface. Hank couldn't help butbe the same on the inside.

could never hide the sickness inside."

Sickness. The thought of Hank's retribution, and bined with his ownignorance, coated his heart with layer of regret.

"I know I" -- He stopped, her. Considering how hard she'd fought to survive, deserved the truth, however ugly or uncertain. the back of hisneck, knowing she was probably him with unusual intelsity.

"Ellen, I wish I could swear to you I'm not but ..." He looked up tomeet her disturbingly press ion He couldn't speak in anything louderthan whisper.

"I don't know who I am."

She remained quiet as she folded the picture and returned it to thealbum.

Jack knew he had to say something to reveal his new convictions,separating him from a madman.

"But I can swear this--I promise I'll never hurt you." Pain pooled inher eyes, and he felt his heart lurch in sympathy.

"I mean it, Ellen. I'm not going to become a totally different personwhen I get my memories back. It's not a case of being a Jekyll and Hyde,a split personality."

She drew a deep breath, then released it in a long sigh. "You can't besure of that. Hank had two very different sides. One moment he could beloving and generous" the next moment, vindictive. malicious. After thefire he became so unbalanced, no one could guess when he would switchgears."

Loving, generous, vindictive, malicious. Two personalities, one person.

Jack's stomach turned sour at the idea he could transform into another man. with different priorities and lesser principles. And who was he tojudge himself as harmless? Maybe Hank considered himself a nice guy,too.

An annoying buzz signaled the thundering return of his headache.

Helay down and closed his eyes, feigning sleep until the real thingdecided to rescue him from his troubled thoughts. He couldn't faceEllen, much less confront his own lingering doubts..

Jack begged for. sleep. He prayed, he demanded, he pleaded. He woke upand discovered a two-hour gap in time where neither the conscious norsubconscious world had reared its ugly head to remind him of his preblems However, his conscience returned in a rush as he grew aware of hissurroundings. He was shocked to realke the groaning sound came fromhimlf.

86 A Killer Smile A Killer Smile 87 "How do you feel ... Jack?" There was a deliberate pause between her question and his name. He wonderedwhether she was forced to make a conscientious effort not to call him Hnnk.

Ellen stood in a circle of soft light from a lqxme lnrnp placed on thekitchen table. Jack wondered if the knife was within her reach.

Somehow the significance of the weapon had come to him right before hedrifted off to sleep. It was her only protection from a purportedmadman.

"I feel tired." He ran a hand through his hair, wincing' as he probed the sensitive spot.

"Does your head still hurt?"

He stretched sore muscles, testing his flmility.

"I don't think it'll ever stop feeling as if ajackhammer is drilling a hole through my skull."

"It's just like the snow--no end in sight." She nodded toward the shadowy window that reflected the glow of the Inmp. "]fore it got dark, it 1ookld another storm was co,ing through."

"Oreat."

Snow. suffocating, cold. cry ling through. The memory faded away as

quickly as it surfaced; "Are you hungry?" She tried to cover her obvious tension with an artificial smile.

"yes."

It didn't tak a genius to know which question she really wanted to ask.

He decided to save her the trouble. "And I'm still Jack, the man without a memory."

Her voice lost its false ring.

"I couldn't quite figure out how to ask the question without sounding paranoid."

"Well, you know what they say--you'e not paranoid if they're really out to gt you." When her shoulders slumped, he sighed and lned back agsinst the headboard.

"That was an incredibly stupid, insensitive thing to say. I'm sorry."