True diligence is following the improbable path. I read this in a detective novel at 8, and it stuck. For years, I wrote it in stylised curly letters on every notebook, dreaming of becoming a spy. Service was scary and glamorous—cars, interrogations, and the mystery of disappearances. As a child, I played Ghosts and Agents, but as an adult, I applied to the Service Academy in Los Angeles, where I excelled and was posted to Fillmore.

Walking with my parents, I noticed the town’s beauty, a stark contrast to their weariness. I thought about the duality of my life: a junior professor by day, a spy by night. My cover was an urban planning academic, but my real job was surveillance. In Fillmore, the state operated lightly, unlike in larger cities. Yet, one day, a van appeared, and the florist’s owners vanished, leaving no trace.

Reflecting on this, I wonder if we all carry secrets, living two lives without knowing it. Are we all spies in a world where reality splits into two?