Chapter 6: Passing the Ultimate Test

He thought, That’s it. She’s figured me out.

But then, to his shock, she burst into tears and rushed to hug him. Arms around him, sobbing. Louis stood stiff, lost.

“It really is you! Nate! You’re alive, thank God!” Her words tumbled out, her grip fierce. Louis felt a pang of guilt, but he was in too deep now.

Huh? He blinked, stunned. He’d expected suspicion, not this tidal wave of love.

She didn’t notice anything off. She believed every word. She fussed over him, full of warmth and concern.

It left Louis reeling. He’d never experienced anything like it. For a moment, he almost believed it himself.

He never dreamed his disguise would work so well. Maybe people really do see what they want to see.

No wonder he’d pulled off more than 500 impersonations.

Still, he kept quiet, afraid one wrong word would give him away.

Then, a flash of inspiration. Amnesia. The perfect cover.

“Sorry, actually… I have partial amnesia…” He forced a tremble into his voice.

She only cried harder, blaming herself for not protecting him.

She apologized over and over. Louis mumbled reassurances.

She promised to help him remember. She’d be patient.

She pulled out a family photo album, explaining every picture, every name. Louis listened, memorizing every detail.

“This is our mom, this is our dad, this is Aunt Sharon’s husband…” She introduced everyone, her voice soft, full of longing.

She went through every photo, telling stories, sharing memories. Louis nodded, soaking it all in.

He was surprised and bewildered. He’d expected suspicion, but instead, he was welcomed home.

He never imagined it would go so smoothly. For the first time in days, he let himself relax.

With the sister convinced, the next step was restoring his American citizenship.

She made calls, filled out forms, handled the red tape. Louis watched in awe.

He was overjoyed. What started as a scam for a meal was turning into a new life.

He’d only wanted to freeload. Now, he was on the verge of becoming an American.

He pictured himself as a real American—baseball cap, apple pie, cheering for the Cowboys.

But the Spanish police were still suspicious. They asked questions, checked documents, watched him closely.

They wanted to test him. Nothing invasive, just a few questions. Louis’s nerves returned.

He lay awake, anxiety gnawing. He’d come this far. He couldn’t give up now.

When he heard about the test, Louis was terrified. He paced, mind racing. The police weren’t blinded by grief.

He pictured the officers—sharp, skeptical, hard to fool. He’d have to be perfect.

But he had no choice. He’d have to tough it out.

He sat in a soundproof office, waiting. The room was cold, the walls bare. Louis drummed his fingers, counting seconds.

Then he saw the test: a photo album—the same one the sister had shown him. Relief flooded through him.

He never imagined he’d already seen all the answers. He flipped through, recalling every name, every story. It was almost funny.

The police used the sister’s album to test him. He recited names, dates, stories. Piece of cake.

It was like walking into an open-book exam. He almost laughed.

And all the important parts were already highlighted. He breezed through, barely breaking a sweat.

It felt like the examiners were begging him to pass. He walked out with a spring in his step.

Afterward, the Spanish police reviewed the results. “Wow, full marks. Amazing.”

They shook his hand, congratulating him. Louis smiled, hiding his relief.

With the test behind him, the doubts faded. Soon, he’d be heading to the US with his sister.