As she reads, Rebecca feels something tingling along her spine. The apartment is warm—Mikaila likes to turn the thermostat up—but despite that, Rebecca gets a shivering feeling in the center of her body. She spent the morning telling the police about Madeline and the party—the guy with her out in the alley, his hands slithering up Madeline’s shirt after his wife was gone. Even when Madeline tried to stop him.

And is Rebecca nuts or does the description of the woman in the book who is about to be killed sound a lot like the woman from the party? Blond hair. Big bright eyes. Married. The guy who might be about to kill her—her husband—has brown hair and a beard. A lot like the creep from the party.

And in real life, that woman is dead. Murdered. Six months before Madeline disappeared. That’s what Nye told her in the alley.

So whoever wrote this book based it on the murder?

So why did the author send it to her?

In the book, the woman is in her car, turning the key to start the engine. And just before she does, she hears something in the backseat.

Maybe it’s the wind.

Maybe it’s outside.

Maybe it’s her mind playing tricks.

She turns around to look—

“Boo!”

Rebecca screams, knocks over her glass of water, dumping its contents everywhere. Then the glass rolls off the end of the table and shatters against the linoleum floor. Rebecca springs from her chair, spinning as she does, turning to face her attacker. Ready to fight or flee.

“Oh, my God, Becca. Are you okay?”

Rebecca stands with her back to the refrigerator. Her hands are out in front of her, both of them clenched into fists. Her dad taught her how to do that when she was little, how to get into a fighting stance and throw a punch.

She’s ready to do that now, the chill in her spine growing hot. The water cascading off the table and onto the floor like a mini waterfall.

She sees Mikaila before her, her mouth wide open, a shocked look on her face. She’s wearing the same shorts and T-shirt she always wears around the apartment, and she lifts her hand to her mouth, covering it even as she speaks.

“Chill, Becca. It was just a joke.” She holds up a beer bottle with her other hand. “I pressed this against your neck, just trying to irritate you. My God, you totally overreacted.”

Rebecca wants to go ahead and punch Mikaila anyway, even though she isn’t a threat. She wants to punch her because Mikaila is acting like Rebecca is the one behaving strangely when it’s her who’s doing the wrong thing, sneaking up on someone who’s had a long, shitty day hearing about murder and spousal abuse and kidnapping.

“Jesus, Mikaila. What the fuck is wrong with you?”