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One day in early August, driven by a feeling she couldn’t quite pinpoint, Missi took a peek at Richie’s wallet.

Inside was a Minnesota state ID with a photograph that was unmistakably Richie’s, but with an entirely different name: Derek Mylan Alldred.

Chris sent Missi a picture of Richie in a hospital bed, looking a little banged up but grinning gamely for the camera.

Missi felt a wave of relief, both that Richie was okay and that her suspicions were unwarranted.

When she finally did meet him in person, her relief was even more profound.

Richie was tall and charming, a good talker and a good listener who seemed eager for a relationship.

The longer they kept dating, though, the more problems cropped up.

A few minutes later, she got a reply from Richie’s friend Chris, who said Richie had been in a car accident.

He was okay, thank God, but the doctors wanted to do some extra testing, since he’d suffered head trauma while in Afghanistan.

When Missi “liked” his profile, he sent her a message right away and called her that afternoon.

They talked about their kids (he had two; she had three), their divorces, their sobriety.

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