She stopped searching through the bag, her tone perplexed. “For heaven’s sake. My wallet’s gone. I can’t think where I could have left it.”

“Did you do any other shopping before you came here?”

“You know what? I did. I remember now I took out my wallet and put it on the counter when I was buying a pair of shoes. I was sure I picked it up again because I took out my credit card, but I must have left it behind.”

The saleswoman reached for the phone. “I’ll be happy to check with the shoe department. They’re probably holding it.”

“Oh, it wasn’t here. It was in a store down the street. Well, no matter. Why don’t you set these aside and I’ll pick them up and pay for them as soon as I have my wallet back.”

“Not a problem. I’ll have your purchases right here.”

“Thank you. I’d appreciate it.”

She left the store, abandoning the bedding, which she ended up buying at a shopping mall miles from downtown. The encounter frightened her more than she cared to admit. She gave the matter a great deal of thought in the days that followed and finally decided there was too much at stake to take chances. She went down to the hall of records and got a duplicate of the Other’s birth certificate. Then she went to the DMV and applied for a driver’s license under the name Solana Rojas, using her own Colgate address. She reasoned that there was surely more than one Solana Rojas in the world, just as there was more than one John Smith. She told the clerk her husband had died and she’d just learned to drive. She had to take a written exam and go through the motions of a driving test with an officious fellow sitting next to her, but she’d passed both with ease. She’d signed the forms and had her photo taken, and in return, she was given a temporary license until the permanent one could be processed in Sacramento and sent to her by mail.