A local news segment featured a "Human Interest" story about a generous donation made to the city library’s restoration fund. The donor was a "local philanthropist and rising star in the archival world." The screen showed the man from the lobby’s monitor. He was standing in Elias’s office, wearing Elias’s favorite tweed jacket, shaking hands with the Head Librarian.
I’m sorry, sir, the young man said, not looking up from his tablet. Residents only. I live here, Elias said, his voice thin. 4B. Elias Thorne. Identity Thief
The thief stood up. He walked to the door and locked it. You were Arthur Vance, he said quietly. A drifter. A man with a record for petty theft and a history of disappearing. You stole the identity of a quiet archivist named Elias Thorne five years ago. Did you really think you were the first person to have this idea? A local news segment featured a "Human Interest"
He reached his office— their office—and peered through the glass. The thief was sitting at the mahogany desk, typing rapidly. He looked comfortable. He looked like he belonged. Elias burst in, his eyes wild. Who are you? I’m sorry, sir, the young man said, not
He went to the nearest ATM, three blocks away, his breath coming in shallow hitches. He shoved his debit card into the slot. He typed his PIN with trembling fingers. The screen didn’t show his balance. It simply flickered once and swallowed the card. A message appeared in stark, white letters: Account Closed. Please contact your local branch.