I was last. Nobody would believe my story if I were completely uninjured, so I read about where to place the knife to avoid serious injury. When I showed up at the police station, soaking wet and sobbing about the intruder in the cabin, most of the blood I was caked in wasn’t mine.

I played the part so well. Honestly, I deserve an Academy Award for that performance. My parents and sister never doubted for a moment that we had been a victim of a vicious attack by a psychopath in the woods. Only that awful detective suspected I might be lying, but he couldn’t prove it. As far as everyone was concerned, I was the victim.

No, I was a hero. Because I survived.

My mother was the one who insisted on the sessions with Dr. Hale. Dr. Hale is the best. And she always said nothing is more important than mental health.

So I agreed to go. And it was fun. Even though I wasn’t the victim of a psychopath in the woods, I was still traumatized by the entire experience. I mean, having to kill your boyfriend and your best friend does a number on your head, although it’s not like they left me with much of a choice. Dr. Hale knew just what to say though. And I sort of enjoyed the game by that point. The deception.

I had no clue she saw through my entire charade.

So you can imagine how I felt when she told me she was on to me. She mentioned recording our sessions at the beginning of therapy, and I think I even signed some sort of consent form. It didn’t seem like a big deal to me. But once she revealed what she knew, I thought back to all my sessions, mentally reviewing all my slip-ups.

I had to do what she asked of me. I had no choice.

Chapter 47

ADRIENNE

Before

It’s well past midnight when the Audi pulls up in front of my house.

It’s the same car my former agent Paige drove, but the car belongs to Patricia. I’m sure her parents bought it for her—they have spoiled her horribly since she returned from that cabin, dripping wet and covered in blood. I watch from my window as Patricia climbs out of her car, dressed in a skimpy, skin-tight red dress that just barely covers her underwear. She slams the door closed with more force than she needed to use. I permanently dismantled the camera looking down on the front door so there would be no record of who’s entering and leaving the house tonight.