I clear my throat, brush away tears with cold, rigid fingers. “Tell me then.” Anything to keep him talking. Give myself time to figure this out. And hopefully, the police are looking for me by now. I need to give them time to find me.

“All right. Might as well since it’s run its course. It’s all at an end now.” He settles back, runs his fingers under his glasses. “When I was thirteen, living in Hartford with my mother and father, I started getting interested in true crime. My mother, a vicious bitch, took out all her frustrations on me. My brother had been her target, but then he left, and she turned on me. She liked to humiliate me, make me feel small, like a nothing, like dog shit on the bottom of her shoe. She told me I was a nobody. Would always be a nobody. Anyway, I used to hide in our basement, which my dad had finished with thin carpet and paneled walls, a TV. I started watching true crime stories, and I found my way. I found something that spoke to me. Women bound and dominated. Then killed. It was . . . satisfying. Anyway, I followed your story, and I was enthralled. I researched you, cut out every article, and found out you’d moved to Boston. When the time came for me to go to college, I followed you here.”

“This was about me?” I shudder. My mouth falls open.

“Oh, yes.” His voice shakes. “All for you, Melinda. I tried to forget you. I met Laken in college, and we hit it off. She was the only woman who could beat me at tennis.” He smiles. “I decided that I needed to let you go. End my obsession. It wasn’t healthy. Lake and I graduated, got married. Her family’s pretty wealthy, as you know. It was a different life. A good life, far from my dark basement in Hartford. Laken and I spent time skating, skiing, sailing. We were always active, busy, and I was happy enough. Then the boys came along, and I thought, I can do this. I can leave my depraved thoughts and fantasies in the past. But,” he sighs, “the shine kind of wore off. Work got busy and full of stress. I looked you up one day.” He grins at me. “Wasn’t easy since you have no social media. Smart, Melinda, but people don’t realize that they still have an internet presence. Anyway, I discovered you were living in Graybridge, just a few miles from where Laken and I were living. What luck, huh?