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Contents (64)
  1. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  2. PROLOGUE HIM
  3. CHAPTER ONE AUDREY
  4. CHAPTER TWO CAT
  5. CHAPTER THREE AUDREY
  6. CHAPTER FOUR CAT
  7. CHAPTER FIVE AUDREY
  8. CHAPTER SIX CAT
  9. CHAPTER SEVEN HIM
  10. CHAPTER EIGHT AUDREY
  11. CHAPTER NINE AUDREY
  12. CHAPTER TEN HIM
  13. CHAPTER ELEVEN CAT
  14. CHAPTER TWELVE AUDREY
  15. CHAPTER THIRTEEN HIM
  16. CHAPTER FOURTEEN AUDREY
  17. CHAPTER FIFTEEN HIM
  18. CHAPTER SIXTEEN CAT
  19. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN AUDREY
  20. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CAT
  21. CHAPTER NINETEEN HIM
  22. CHAPTER TWENTY AUDREY
  23. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CAT
  24. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO AUDREY
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE AUDREY
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR HIM
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE CAT
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX AUDREY
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN HIM
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT CAT
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE HIM
  32. CHAPTER THIRTY AUDREY
  33. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE CAT
  34. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO AUDREY
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE AUDREY
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR AUDREY
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE CAT
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX AUDREY
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN AUDREY
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT HIM
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE CAT
  42. CHAPTER FORTY AUDREY
  43. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE HIM
  44. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO AUDREY
  45. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE AUDREY
  46. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR CAT
  47. CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE HIM
  48. CHAPTER FORTY-SIX AUDREY
  49. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN AUDREY
  50. CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT HIM
  51. CHAPTER FORTY-NINE AUDREY
  52. CHAPTER FIFTY CAT
  53. CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE AUDREY
  54. CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO CAT
  55. CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE AUDREY
  56. CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR HIM
  57. CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE CAT
  58. CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX AUDREY
  59. CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN MAX
  60. CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT CAT
  61. CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE AUDREY
  62. CHAPTER SIXTY MAX
  63. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  64. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

But I couldn’t. Every time I opened my mouth to do so, fresh tears welled in her eyes and I was reminded that this wasn’t like the thing with Nick. This was my best friend having a truly terrifying experience. She needed me, and so I stayed up most of the night with her, falling asleep only an hour before my alarm went off. Now I was paying the price as I struggled to finish the memo, feeling as though my eyes were coated in sandpaper and my mouth was stuffed with cotton.

“I’ll be waiting for that memo, Catherine,” Bill said with a frown.

I nodded feverishly and turned back to my computer, fingers flying over the keys as I raced to finish it. Just as I was hitting my stride, my phone buzzed. I glanced away from the screen and saw that it was a text message from Audrey: I forgot to ask! Did you send me flowers yesterday?

I stared in disbelief at the message while resentment flooded my body. No Thank you for listening, no Sorry I kept you up, no How’s that memo going? Just Did you send me flowers?Audrey might’ve been my best friend, but she was also the most self-obsessed woman I’d ever met.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX AUDREY

I began having trouble sleeping in my apartment. Every time I put my head on my pillow, I heard phantom footsteps and faint scratches outside my window. I hung thicker curtains to shield myself from the prying eyes I assumed were out there, but then realized the opacity went both ways—no one could see in, but I couldn’t see out. If someone was truly out there, I might not know—and so I began routinely leaving the curtains slightly cracked.

I was already on edge, and then I started having nightmares about Rosalind. I dreamed of being stuck inside her tiny doll world, hurtling toward an unpleasant but inevitable end. One of the dioramas in particular haunted me: Rosalind, blinded by a silky sleeping mask, tucked snugly beneath a fluffy comforter while her future murderer stood outside her window, his face obscured by a balaclava and his gloved hand wrapped around a miniature hatchet.

I like the one where the guy’s outside the girl’s window with a hatchet. I shuddered as I remembered the words of that dead-eyed creep I’d caught in the Rosalind exhibit on the first day. It had been weeks, and I was still turning corners in the museum and finding him there, loitering with his gaze hidden by his baseball cap. I wanted to demand to know who the hell he was and why didn’t he ever seem to have a life to get to, but I didn’t want to cause issues at work. I wanted that promotion, and there was no way I was going to allow him to ruin it for me.

Don’t let it get to you, I chastised myself. My situation was wholly dissimilar to Rosalind’s, or Colette’s before her. So some guy who lacked social skills hung around a free museum too much. That didn’t make him a stalker. I didn’t have a stalker; at most, I had a random Peeping Tom who, as far as I knew, had never come back and probably didn’t even own a hatchet.