[Her smile falters in spite of herself, a sharp pain stabbing her right in her chest. He has Scott's phone. He has Scott's phone, he says his name is Scott, but he doesn't know her. He doesn't look like her Scott. Where's her Scott?

It's funny, laying here with this Scott, she's never felt more alone. But she tries to muster her smile anyway and shakes her head -- then pauses, and shrugs a little helplessly in response to his question.]

Not the wrong guy. The wrong Scott.

[Even with her own heart beating rapidly and her throat twisted up with the anxiety that her Scott is gone, replaced with this stranger, he's still a Scott, even if he's not the Scott she wants. And that means she can't miss the distrust, and that hurts her possibly as much as it hurts him. How can she make him feel better...? Maybe by explaining?]

It's... would you believe me if I said my boyfriend is Scott Summers? See?

[She turns her phone, showing a selfie of her and Scott -- her Scott -- with his arms draped over her shoulders and smiles on both of their faces.]

I... I think you have his phone, [she adds more quietly, because the prospect that he's been replaced is a lot to try to handle right now, and she's almost afraid to speak it into existence.]