“Beth.” Jupe's slow and tentative with the name, like there's any way on earth he could mispronounce it. He rests his arms in front of him on the table, gaze drawn to the ring—a plain gold band—on his left hand. Finding the glint on her own hand. He thinks about pointing out that she could just as easily be the one who's been memory-wiped or—had a personality transplant, whatever she's suggesting, but there's no reason to freak her out.

“I'm married—married for real. Her name's Amber. We have three boys.” He says it simply, with the ease of someone used to talking about himself, watching her face to see if it sinks in. “I'm Jupe—well, that's what I'm known as. Jupe Park.” He can't help raising his eyebrows as he says his name, somewhere between hopeful and expectant.